


Unlikely

by flyingcrane



Category: Bleach, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Crossover, Drugs, Gen, Gen Work, Italian Mafia, Major Character(s), Minor Character(s), Multi, Other, Religious Conflict, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Shinigami, Violence, ooc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2017-12-29 10:05:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1004110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingcrane/pseuds/flyingcrane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do a substitute shinigami and mafia boss in training have in common? Absolutely nothing…aside from the fact that they’ve both been kidnapped right under their friends noses and have only each other to rely on to survive. Gen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Also found on Fanfiction.net, please comment or message me with suggestions or if you just liked the story in general. Thanks!

**Meeting**

"Name?"

"…Ts-Tsuna. Y-You?"

"Ichigo."

"N-Nice to meet you, Ichigo-san."

"Hm. I'd say the same under different circumstances."

"…"

"…"

"I-Ichigo-san?"

"What?"

"Why are you here?"

"…dunno. Why're you?"

"…I-I'm not sure either."

"…"

"Ichigo-san?"

"Yeah?"

"W-We're going to get out of here. My friends are looking for me. They'll find us, and you can go home, I promise."

"…heh. Not if my friends find us first."

"…are they strong?"

"Yeah. Yours?"

"Mm. Very."

"Then let's hope they don't end up killing each other before they get us out of here."

"…"

"Oi, Tsuna."

"Hm?"

"Nice to meet you too."


	2. Farewell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after Xcution arc in Bleach and Representative Battle Arc in Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

Tsuna didn't know what to make of his fellow prisoner.

The teen was scary at first, his obnoxiously bright orange hair and terrifying scowl enough to convince the brunette he was a delinquent of some sort - the kind Hibari-san liked to hunt down. But, like Lancia-san, he didn't sense that Ichigo was a bad person. For the brief moment that they spoke, he got the feeling Ichigo was somewhat like a mix between Gokudera and Yamamoto – rough on the outside but not all the way through, confident and at ease but not naïve. He even reminded him a bit of an older, orange-haired version of Hibari, quiet and level headed and somehow terrifyingly powerful.

Even now, despite their bleak situation, the older teen was just sitting comfortably in his cell, back against the wall and relaxed as if they weren't in enemy territory.

Did that make him an enemy? Or a bad guy? Because, aside from his friends and the crazy people he dealt with on a near daily basis, Tsuna had a feeling there were not many tolerant people that would take the situation in stride so easily. Was Ichigo a prisoner of war? Did he cross a mafia family? Or was he just in the wrong place at the wrong time?

Tsuna was not particularly proud to admit he'd panicked when he first woke up in what looked like a medieval dungeon – chains on the wall, black steel cell bars, thick cobblestone walls – and it had taken him a second to realize this wasn't one of Reborn's awful tutoring sessions. Despite making peace with the Vindice, he still had a healthy amount of fear for the undead Arcobaleno and still had nightmares about the water prison Mukuro had been held in, and waking here did not help quell the horror that had risen in his throat.

It had been Ichigo-san to calm him down with a terse, one-worded question even though he was in the same situation across the hall.

Unfortunately, before Tsuna could say more to chase away the bleak silence, they were interrupted by two severe looking guards shushing them, heavily armed with riot gear, really big guns, and a lot of other painful looking things Tsuna didn't want to think about.

And Ichigo-san, Tsuna found, really didn't like being told what to do.

When one of the guards tried to scare him by banging on the bars – making Tsuna jump in the process – he merely looked up at them with a lazy, half-incredulous expression, and snorted derisively, "Looks like they put the monkeys on the wrong side of the bars."

Tsuna clapped a hand over his mouth, part in holding in a horrified screech and part in an effort to keep in his laughter.

The guards' faces had turned a blotchy red in anger, but Ichigo still seemed completely unruffled, hard brown eyes staring the guard down despite the height difference. The bigger man had a smoker's voice, gruff and unpleasant to listen to coupled with a heavy accent when he spoke Japanese, "Watch yer mouth, boy. Yer just lucky da boss wants ya  _unharmed_  or ya'd regret dat."

They both left after sending Tsuna a scathing glare in warning and the brunette slumped with relief when they were finally gone.

 _After trying to convince a roomful of my former enemies to fight together, facing off against the Vindice, and living with_ Reborn _, you'd think I'd be used to this kind of stuff..._ He internally sighed, annoyed at himself for cowering to a regular man when he'd already dealt with the strongest, scariest people on earth.

Tsuna was silent for a few moments, cramming his self-depreciating thoughts down, and hesitantly asked, "I-Ichigo-san? Do you remember what happened before you were brought here?"

For a second, Tsuna thought the orange-haired teen didn't hear him – or was ignoring him – but he saw the look of concentration on the older teens face as he thought. "No. I've been trying to remember when and how I got here but all I remember is waking up and eating breakfast before everything goes black. It's not like I was attacked and knocked out, otherwise I'd feel some leftover trauma from the fight, but I have a suspicion that we've been drugged." Sharp amber eyes suddenly bore into his own, "Do you feel sluggish? Disoriented? Any loss of balance or appetite?"

Tsuna blinked at the rapid-fire questions and wondered what he should divulge.

He couldn't exactly say he was sore all over from his battle with another entity that policed the dark underbelly of society, now could he? "W-Well…I do have a headache, and I'm still really tired and everything's kind of…fuzzy? It's hard to focus on anything."

Ichigo swore, and Tsuna jumped. Those were the only new symptoms he could feel that didn't involve the battle that ended only a week ago.

"Rohypnol."

Tsuna blinked at the new term. "Ro-hop-what?"

"Rohypnol. Date-rape drug, used in a lot of bars and clubs to take advantage of people." Tsuna's face drained of color, "Don't worry, they didn't do anything to us physically. Rohypnol is a popular drug to use in Europe, America, and Columbia because it causes near-permanent memory loss while the victim is under the influence. They must've slipped it to us or something similar and brought us here which explains our symptoms. Decrease in motor function, drowsiness, low blood pressure, headaches, and visual impairment. The effects should wear off soon since we haven't been dosed in over twenty-four hours."

Tsuna blinked at the older teen incredulously. Calling Ichigo-san a delinquent, even in the privacy of his own mind, was a huge oversight, but now he was even more like an older Gokudera-kun in his mind.

"Wow, Ichigo-san is really smart. How do you know all that?"

Ichigo's scowl lessened a bit but he still frowned at the memory, "My dad runs an at-home clinic. I help out when I can, and one night about two years ago, a girl came in. She'd been dosed with it and came stumbling to our neighborhood for help, but the next morning she didn't remember anything and had a lot of our symptoms."

The brunette's eyes widened during the story, horror and disgust welling within him like a raging tidal wave. What kind of person would do that? "What happened? Is she okay now?" His worry must've shown on his face, because Ichigo just looked at him with a small, approving half-smirk.

"She's fine. When the asshole came after her, I broke his arm and my dad called the police. He's still in jail and the girl sends a card every year thanking us for helping her."

Tsuna couldn't help but notice the content, the pride, Ichigo felt in his father and himself for saving an innocent girl from such a terrible fate. He wasn't bragging about being a hero, he was genuinely happy she was safe and that the jerk wouldn't get a chance to do the same to another girl in the future. It made his respect for the older teen raise another notch, and the inkling of trust he felt was cemented in his mind.

No, Ichigo-san wasn't a bad person, and even though Reborn was going to beat the tar out of him for trusting a complete stranger so easily – because he found out everything – Tsuna just felt relieved having the older teen as company.

"I remember waking up late and watching tv…and eating breakfast my mom left for me…" Flashes of memories shot through his skull, too fast to understand what they were, "…and then I woke up here."

Ichigo narrowed his eyes, "You were home alone?"

Tsuna nodded, blinking at the change of subject, "Uh, yeah. My parents went on a cruise for a week…and a lot of my friends went out of town."

Ichigo's scowl deepened again, "Huh. I was home alone too. My dad and sisters were out of town and my friends went on a few personal trips." He glared at the wall across from him, "That doesn't explain how they slipped us the drug. My sister made breakfast for everyone, so they would've been effected long before me and I assume the same goes for your family."

Tsuna nodded, catching on to his train of thought, "Then how did they-"

A sudden slam of heavy doors down the hall silenced their conversation, and a chill crept up Tsuna's spine. Five men came, a relatively young man in front, two older gentlemen beside him, and the same two guards flanking them with creepy grins. The chill got worse, frighteningly so, and the brunette felt a wave of nausea almost overcome him – at least one of these men reeked of death and cruelty.

The young one leered at them both from where he stood, looking them up and down like new toys to play with, and Tsuna could practically see Ichigo-san's hackles rise. He felt it too, then, the dark, slimy feeling trying to crawl under their skin.

"Look what we have here…"

* * *

"Tsuna, give us a moment and go give these cookies to Maman and the children." Bianchi casually ordered, not missing a beat as she kept stirring something purple and dangerous in a heavy-duty pot. Tsuna wasn't above wondering if a person could fit in there and whether or not Bianchi would be adverse to cannibalistic methods of cooking, but he took the tray of surprisingly normal cookies anyway and scampered off.

Gokudera eyed her suspiciously where he sat, the undertone of 'we need to talk' not lost on him. He resisted a wince as he shifted in his seat, ribs still tender from the explosion not a week ago that had nearly killed him and Yamamoto.

Bianchi kept stirring the pot in smooth strokes, her posture betraying nothing. "Hayato…would you like to go on a trip with me?"

Gokudera blinked. And stared. And glared. And then titled his head to the side, trying to figure out the proper equation and mathematical method to approach the question and solve it.

He came up empty. "What?"

The Poison Scorpion sighed and stopped stirring, turning back to look at her genius but sometimes dull little brother. Her goggled eyes were surprisingly unguarded and honest when she looked at him. "I asked if you'd like to go on a trip with me," she pulled two tickets out of her back pocket and slid them towards him, "a road trip. We can stop by a few towns with stuff to do together on the way to this concert."

Gokudera stared at her suspiciously before investigating the tickets with calculating eyes. His jaw dropped. "S-Stephen Hough?!" he squeaked, fumbling a bit with the foreign name.

Stephen Hough.

One of the greatest current pianists of all time.

An early inspiration to his mother and his (secret) hero.

Hough was relatively young – only in his early fifties with a full head of brown hair – but his skill was inarguable and had played with multiple famous orchestras and worked with legendary conductors like Ivan Fischer within the last ten years. Gokudera remembered going to one of his concerts when he was very young with his mother. It wasn't a formal concerto and the audience was a small, inner-circle type of crowd, but he remembered being enthralled with the mans' passion as he played, his energy and love for the music very similar to his mothers. It was one of his best memories with her.

"What is this?" he asked roughly, anger slowly filling him as nostalgia was pushed aside.

Bianchi held back a sigh, knowing it would enrage her brother, and gently laid a hand on his clenched fist. "This isn't a trick, Hayato. I loved when your mother played…I love when you play…I just thought, after everything that's happened in the last year…I just thought it would be nice to listen to my little brothers favorite pianist with him. That's all. No other reason, no ulterior motives. You don't have to go, but I would like your company."

She waited a moment before pulling her hand back and leaving the room, and Gokudera was left in his remnants of shock and anger.

He'd never heard Bianchi speak so openly before. Almost vulnerable and without her usual, cool composure. He couldn't even remember the last time she called him 'little brother' so affectionately since he was a kid. He instantly felt bad for his aggressive reaction, but after years of being manipulated by nearly everyone, it was hard to trust even his own sister when she was being genuine.

She was extending an olive branch, not to bury the past but to remember, accept, and resolve nearly a decade of mixed feelings.

With his mind made up, he grabbed the tickets and shoved them in his pocket and walked into the living room, ignoring his sisters small smile and fell into a familiar routine.

"Lambo no fair! You share!"

"NO! THEY ARE LAMBO-SANS COOKIES! BWAHAHAHA LAMBO-SAN IS THE GREATEST!"

"SHUT UP YOU LITTLE-!"

"Maa, maa!"

"GUPYA~! GO AWAY BAKADERA! UNHAND LAMBO-SAN OR SUFFER MY WRATH!"

"HIIIEEE! LAMBO! PUT THAT GRENADE DOWN!"

"STUPID COW BRAT!"

* * *

Tsuna sighed, hanging up the phone after having a headache inducing conversation with Kyoko's older brother.

Apparently, the Sasagawa family was going on their annual family trip across Japan, the day before his parents' departure on their cruise, and they had invited him, Lambo, Ipin, and Haru to join them.

While Tsuna would've loved to spend quality time with beautiful Kyoko-chan, he was still exhausted and aching. He didn't think he'd have the energy to deal with Ryohei, Lambo, and Haru all at once, and he was too nervous to meet Kyoko's parents. So, he declined but gave the younger kids the green light to go – better they stay with the Sasagawa's instead of stay at home and cry until mom came home.

 _Well, that takes care of the kids._  Before he could lie down and shut his eyes, a flying kick to his temple knocked him off balance, "Hiiieee! Reborn! That hurt!" he whined, partially out of habit but mostly out of pain.

"We need to talk."

Tsuna sat upright immediately, not liking Reborn's severe tone, and obediently sat cross-legged in front of the hitman.

"You need to be careful, Tsuna." Reborn said, expression void of any sadistic glee or omnipotent knowing-ness he always seemed to display. He was being serious. "Of course I'm being serious dame-Tsuna. This is your safety we're talking about."

Reborn really needed to stay out of his head.

"I will when you stop being so easy to read, now focus." Tsuna jolted at the sharp tone, now worried and a little scared, "I'm going to be in Italy for a while with Nono, and since you're going to be Decimo soon, I can tell you it's because there have been disappearances among Vongola's allies. Too many family members have gone missing and I'm needed to lead the investigation."

Tsuna didn't even have the coherency to refute his position as usual. Disappearances? Missing people?

Reborn didn't relent. "So far, we don't have a clue who is behind this and the Vongola along with CEDEF – without your father – are working tirelessly to figure it out. It's only started up after the Representative Battles ended but the disappearances have increased exponentially within the last three days and I'm needed there. It's doubtful that they will target you or any of your guardians, especially after your battle with the Vindice, but the key is caution, understand?"

"W-Why are you telling me this?" Tsuna whispered, his heart heavy with dread.

A powerful kick to the head knocked him out of his horrified stupor, "Because you need to know what's going on and be on guard. Don't think just because you're home with your guardians that you're safe. The only reason I'm even leaving is because the situation has become dire and requires my presence."

 _He…he's worried about me? He doesn't want to go because he wants to make sure I'm safe?_  The thought warmed Tsuna a bit from his cold fear, and the familiar swell of happiness he felt at being Reborn's student, the gratitude he felt once in a blue moon, came with a vengeance. Reborn didn't comment on his thoughts this time, and if Tsuna didn't know any better, his tutor was  _embarrassed_  because Tsuna was right. The brunette gave a weak smile that belied his convicted nod, "Ah. I understand, Reborn. I'll be careful. I'll have my gloves and pills with me everywhere I go."

That was exactly what Reborn needed to hear, but for some reason his gut still churned with uneasiness. "Che. You're too emotional, Dame-Tsuna."

Tsuna huffed in response, crossing his arms, but before they could continue to bicker Tsuna heard his mother call everyone for dinner. The brunette couldn't quite hide his happy smile when he offered his shoulder and Reborn took the invitation. "Yeah yeah, I know. Let's go, mom made curry tonight."

He bit back a laugh at Reborn's almost petulant sigh. "I'm going to miss Mamman's cooking while I'm overseas."

* * *

"Eh? You're going on a road trip with Bianchi tomorrow?" Tsuna asked, surprised. He'd never known his friend to willingly spend time with his older sister.

"Yes! I'm extremely sorry for the last minute notice, Juudaime!" Gokduera cried, nearly throwing himself on the floor at Tsuna's feet.

Tsuna sweatdropped – the silver-haired bomber had gotten better about overreacting around him, but it seemed old habits died hard. It was actually a nice idea, Gokudera needed the reprieve from everything dangerous that seemed to hover around Namimori. He smiled, "Have a good trip then, Gokudera-kun."

Gokudera had that worshipping expression on his face again, "I'm so sorry I won't be here to protect you Juudaime! I'll have to leave your safety the baseball idiot and turf top, but least Reborn-san will still be here but still!"

Tsuna smiled weakly, "It's alright Gokudera-kun, I'll be fine while you're gone. We can go to the movies or something when you get back, okay?"

He was grateful that Gokudera cared for his safety, but the bomber knew if there was even a chance that something bad would happen while he was gone, he wouldn't leave. Gokudera deserved to have a break doing something he loved with his sister, which was why Tsuna didn't have the heart to tell him about how Yamamoto's team was selected last minute to attend a famous baseball tournament taking place in two days out of town, or that Kyoko-chan and Oni-san's parents were leaving the day after for a family trip that happened to include Haru, Lambo, and Ipin, or that Reborn's flight to Italy was scheduled just hours after Gokudera's departure tomorrow.

But Tsuna was sure nothing would go wrong, and a little omission didn't hurt anyone, especially if it involved the happiness of one of his best friends. He didn't feel guilty at all. Nope. No guilt whatsoever. None.

Gokudera was nearly in tears, "Juudaime is so kind!"

 _Damnit_.

* * *

The days passed by quickly as everyone started to leave Namimori.

First Gokudera and his sister, the former still apologizing profusely but so excited Tsuna couldn't get annoyed. Reborn left next, a little more edgy when he heard about the Poison Scorpion and Hurricane Bomb's departure, but just gave Tsuna a solid kick in the gut as goodbye. That afternoon, Yamamoto stopped by with some sushi and such a childish, excited grin, Tsuna felt himself grinning too as he waved him off. The next day, he packed the kids up for the Sasagawa family road trip. Today, he was seeing his parents off for their cruise.

"You remember the rules, Tsu-kun! There's food in the fridge and freezer, just defrost. I also left some money in the drawer in case you feel like eating out, but not too much okay? It's not healthy for you. Brush your teeth after every meal, leave your dirty clothes in the hamper until I get back, and make sure the house is clean when I get home! Alright sweetie?" Nana said sweetly, excitement and worry clear in her features.

Tsuna sighed, "I know, mom, we go over this whenever you leave the house for more than a day. Have a nice trip with dad. Don't let him get drunk and fall overboard."

Nana lightly scolded, "Now now, Tsu-kun, that's no way to talk about your father." She smiled dreamily, "Be safe sweetie! Oh, and change your underwear everyday! We'll be back in a week. Love you!" she kissed him on each cheek, giggling at his embarrassed groan, and flitted out the door with her bags to the cab waiting outside.

Iemitsu materialized out of nowhere and clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder, and Tsuna winced at the discomfort from his injuries.

The blonde grinned, "Listen to your mother, Tsuna. We'll be back before you know it." His expression sobered, "I'll keep her safe, and you stay safe too. The Representative Battles may be over, but that doesn't mean there will be other trials in the future. Relax and let your injuries heal. Your friends will be around so have fun while we're gone." He smiled again, smaller but sincere and full of unfamiliar fatherly pride, "I'm proud of you son. You united all of Vongola and made allies of your previous enemies, and you've done the impossible by breaking the Arcobaleno curse. No other father can say their son did that."

Tsuna blinked in surprise, almost numb from shock aside from the happiness that left him feeling a little off kilter. He'd never heard such genuine praise from Iemitsu before.

The warm glow in his chest abruptly sputtered and died as he watched his dad transform into his useless, lovesick father with a deadpan expression. The blonde went all googly-eyed and ran at the cab with hearts in his eyes, singing, badly, about how beautiful his beautiful, sweet Nana-chan was as she giggled and blushed in return, and Tsuna gaped dumbly as the cab disappeared around the corner.

Strong or not, his dad was a weirdo.

Sighing, the brunette closed the front door and just listened to the silence.

The house hadn't been this quiet since…since the beginning, when Reborn first arrived and refused to leave, turning his world upside down and sideways.

With a tired grin, Tsuna decided to enjoy the peace while it lasted and take a nap.

He did feel a little bad that he told no one of each other's plans, but he didn't know that no one else knew until last minute. His friends had no clue pretty much everyone was gone on their own little excursions for the next week, and Reborn left fairly quickly so he probably didn't know Tsuna was alone yet (his tutor was _not_ omnipotent, as much as Reborn liked to make the world think so). Even his parents didn't question the absence of his guardians, assuming they were at home recovering. And, as usual, he had no clue what Hibari or Mukuro and his gang were up to. Oh well.

It wasn't like anything would go wrong in just a few days.

Everything was fine.

Just fine.


	3. Coincidence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy the chapter! Leave a comment/kudos if you did and check out my other account on fanfiction.net and other stories :)

Ichigo didn't know what to make of his fellow prisoner.

The kid was young, only a few years younger than himself, and he certainly didn't seem like a threat before or after his near panic attack – Ichigo's first thought upon waking up was a despairing  _I'm never gonna hear the end of this_ because there was no way in hell any of his friends, shinigami or human, would let him live this down _-_ but then again, the orange-haired teen knew better than anyone that looks weren't everything. A cat could be a woman, a child could be two hundred years old, it didn't matter.

Tsuna though...was a quiet power that hummed beneath the younger teens skin that Ichigo only barely picked up on, something warm and fierce, familiar and completely unlike any energy Ichigo had felt before, and it wasn't until Tsuna spoke that Ichigo found he was no pushover.

But that didn't explain why either of them were here.

Ichigo was just a regular human high school student (when exactly he'd started specifying  _human_  he would never know) with a normal family, a few strange absences, a penchant for trouble, and an odd case of cardiac arrest or two. From what he could see, Tsuna seemed like a normal middle school student, maybe a bit shy and soft-spoken, but for a brief moment Ichigo saw something like potential shine in him. He shook off the notion as soon as it'd come.

As far as he knew, no one outside of his friends and allies knew of his moonlighting as a shinigami, and if they did, what did they think they would gain by imprisoning him?

 _They probably want to study me or something._  He grimaced at the thought, remembering the leering glares he would get from Mayuri, or how he would sometimes catch Urahara's shrewd, calculating stare from the corner of his eye after doing something particularly out of the norm.

After hearing Tsuna's story, his mind immediately thought  _no such thing as coincidences, this is just a huge set-up_  but who, or what, would have so much influence over both worlds? If his suspicions were right and this was all an elaborate trap, not only would their information network have to be extensive and professional, but the money, planning, and time it would take to create such specific opportunities for their friends to be gone at the same time while making it seem completely random…these people were definitely not half-assing anything. It was a scheme worthy of Aizen or Urahara. It would take another four days, at least, for any of their friends or family to notice their absence.

All this work just to capture two seemingly average teenagers…

If they did find out something so impossible about him – a human shinigami with hollow powers,  _one-of-a-kind,_  Ichigo mentally snorted – what could Tsuna be hiding?

_Assuming that they know about my situation and that Tsuna is more than just a middle schooler, they probably have some pretty damn good spies if Urahara-san or Yoruichi-san didn't mention anyone watching us before they left. Unless those assholes decided not to tell me anything until the last minute. Still...having those kinds of contacts means influence. Influence means power and money. Yakuza? Crazy, rich bastard with too much time on his hands?_

In a dark corner of his mind, Keigo's annoying voice shouted  _it's the government! They're watching us!_ and Ichigo was inclined to agree, although he was thinking of a different government.

For a brief moment, the bright haired teen had suspected Soul Society had something to do with his kidnapping, but the doubt left as quickly as it came. Rukia had impressed upon him the fact that even though Shinigami came and went as needed, not even the Four Noble Families could extend their control to the material world. Those laws were as old as the foundations of Sereitei, laws that Central 46 couldn't amend, and trying to do so would therefore be an incredibly stupid thing to do. And Ichigo had more allies than enemies these days, and he was sure he'd have at least the Vizard and his closest shinigami friends on his side if anything came to a head.

Still, he wouldn't put it passed the government that had fallen under Aizen's thrall for centuries, condemned one human girl on baseless accusations of betrayal when they couldn't even see the traitors in their own ranks, to completely miss something like this. Maybe even orchestrate it. 

Which lead him back to square one.

He sighed in frustration, irritated that he didn't have enough information, but he didn't need his instincts to tell him he and Tsuna were probably in over their heads.

He frowned pensively, leaving that train of thought for later. From their short talk, he got the feeling that this wasn't Tsuna's first time involved in something dangerous (after all, what kind of kid his age should be reassuring someone older than him that they'd be saved, that his friends were coming to help?), but that didn't mean the brunette deserved to be in this situation.

He seemed like a good kid, compassionate and morally sound and other things that Ichigo respected. There was something else too, an overwhelming kindness that couldn't be mistaken for vulnerability that the Visored recognized because it strongly reminded him of Orihime, of her everlasting tolerance and patience and sweetness that held a degree of solidarity he, Chad, and Ishida relied on in almost every battle. Seeing it in Tsuna was unexpected but only cemented the idea in his mind that Tsuna was different, but that couldn't be the reason he was stuck down in a dungeon with Ichigo, right?

That was why, when those six men had walked down the corridor, Ichigo kept a close eye on the brunettes' reactions. The way the younger teen stiffened, eyes wide with wariness and mouth turned down in alarm, was a clear warning before Ichigo felt what Tsuna must've picked up on.

The smell of death.

As the group casually made their way down the corridor, Ichigo instantly scowled again, expression darkening when he saw Tsuna's discomfort at being stared like one of the Twelfth Divisions' experiments.

"Look what we have here…" the youngest one leered.

Ichigo figured he was the youngest, anyway, but the man was easily into his late twenties or early thirties. The other two men, one silent as the grave holding an intimidating boar's head cane and the other standing with a proud stance much like Byakuya but too arrogant to be similar, were probably in their fifties with salt and pepper hair streaked with grey and stern lines etched deeply into their craggy faces. The two guards from earlier came up in the rear. The last man was too far back for Ichigo to see clearly, wrapped in the shadows of poor lighting, but he was the one that had most of Ichigo's attention.

"Kurosaki Ichigo and Sawada Tsunayoshi." The youngest ones smile took a maniacal edge, drawing their attention, "I'm flattered you two have decided to drop by…my two  _guests of honor_."

Ichigo leveled the creepy one talking with an irritated stare for distracting him, lifting his wrist and rattling the heavy chains, "I'd hate to see how you treat your prisoners." He retorted blandly, catching Tsuna's half-incredulous, half-exasperated expression of oh-my-god-what-are-you-doing and I-knew-this-was-going-to-happen (and maybe a bit of you're-going-to-be-the-death-of-me). It was a familiar expression but at least his shoulders were no longer tight with tension.

Creepy sneered and the guard from earlier stepped forward with a snarl, "Watch yer tongue when yer in the presence of the Baron, boy, or I'll rip it outta yer mouth. We don't need ya here to  _talk_  after all."

One of the middle-aged men, the quiet one, raised a hand and the guard immediately quieted, not even glowering at Ichigo as he stepped back into line. The second one with a haughty smirk spoke better Japanese than the guard, but his words still held a guttural accent Ichigo couldn't place, "Fret not, you both are far more valuable than mere prisoners." He jerked his head, and the two guards moved forward to Tsuna's cell.

Tsuna didn't look scared or intimidated, which was what Ichigo would've expected of anyone else, but he did look a bit worried as the guards stood imposingly over him with a pair of black handcuffs. Ichigo watched carefully and clenched his fists tightly when Tsuna managed to dodge their first try at capturing him but could move no further, sagging in exhaustion as soon as the cuffs made contact with his skin.

Ichigo's jaw clenched tightly, jumping to his feet and standing at his full height, "What did you do." It wasn't a question or request, but a demand.

He felt his reiatsu pressure rise, and by the wary expression on the guards faces, they were feeling the raging ocean of energy inside him stirring angrily. The young man stepped back, face twisted into a sneer, but before Ichigo could repeat himself, the sixth man in the shadows flashed forward in a blur with a speed his human body wasn't accustomed to defending against. He jerked back and dodged the first few attempts at restraining him with what looked like cuffs made of white stone, but his back hit the all at the same time the restraints were secured around his wrist.

His eyes felt heavy immediately and he felt the chilling numbness that surrounded him slowly seep into his soul, Zangetsu and his hollow's already muted voices quieting to nothing.

* * *

"Stupid gorilla! Go back to the jungle!"

"Watch it, shrimp! I'll duel you now and take my rightful spot as Ukitake-taichou's third seat!"

"Ha! You couldn't beat me with my eyes close and both hands tied behind my back, you stinking caveman!"

"Please, like I'd be afraid of a little mouse like you. Go eat some lettuce, little rabbit, and let the real shinigami take care of the work around here."

"Why you-!"

"Kotetsu-san, Kotsubaki-san, please quiet down."

Both third seats immediately straightened at the sound of their vice-captains kind but stern voice. "Hai, Kuchiki-fukutaichou! My apologies!" Almost immediately, they glared at each other for speaking at the same time, oblivious to Rukia's amused gaze.

With a sigh, she waved her hand. "Carry on."

Rukia didn't have time to enjoy or get annoyed by their usual antics today seeing as she was almost late for the vice-captains meeting, followed by the Captain's Council right after. Even though it would be her fourth time in attendance, she was still nervous and excited to be there.  _Not even two years ago, the Captain-Commander would never have allowed any seat below captain class to be present_. The thought brought a smile to her face, remembering her reaction upon first hearing about the procedural change from Ukitake-taichou.

_Ukitake smiled reassuringly at her, "There's nothing wrong, Rukia-chan. We were just informed by Yamamoto-soutaichou about a few changes he's making to the Gotei 13."_

_Rukia blinked, "Changes?"_

_Ukitake settled more comfortably behind his desk, features relaxed with a healthy color on his cheeks due to his improving health, "As you know, captains typically meet once every two weeks to discuss important issues within our specific divisions and Soul Society as a whole." Rukia nodded, a tad impatiently, earning her an indulgent chuckle that made her face flush, "As decreed by the Captain-Commander, starting now for as long as the Gotei 13 stands, vice-captains are permitted to attend Captain's Councils on the first week of every month."_

_The young Kuchiki stared, wide-eyed and star struck for a moment before shaking herself, "Vice-captains a-are what now? I'm allowed to attend a Captain's Council with you? I-I thought only the Central 46 could make those decisions."_

_Ukitake smiled again, kindly with a touch of wistfulness that she didn't quite understand, "Change has come, Rukia-chan, for the Gotei 13 and all of Soul Society."_

_Ichigo, expression set in unwavering determination and bull-headed stubbornness, came to mind._

_The Thirteenth Division captain's expression shifted for a moment, as if he had heard her thoughts and agreed, "The new Central 46 is much more liberal with their rulings, and although we are no longer under Martial Law, Yamamoto-soutaichou has much more freedom with the divisions than before. After everything that's happened, most of the captains agreed that the vice-captains should be much more involved."_

Even sentenced to Muken, wrapped in darkness for nearly twenty millennia, he's still influencing us… _Rukia thought bitterly. If anything, destroying the previous Central 46 was probably the only good thing Aizen had done even though she could only admit it in the darkest recesses of her mind, a thought so traitorous and ugly that she couldn't help but feel dirty for even believing it. But it was true._

" _I see. So when will the first meeting be?"_

_Ukitake's smile became ever so slightly devious, and Rukia had learned early on from Kaein that that particular expression never boded well for those on the receiving end._

Ukitake-taichou is one of the oldest shinigami in Sereitei, Kuchiki. He's gotta keep himself entertained somehow, right?

" _Tomorrow."_

_Rukia blinked once. Twice._

_Her captain's serene smile never wavered._

" _TOMORROW?!"_

Vice-captains were used to attending meetings – it was an unwritten prerequisite for any seated officer, though second seat had the most responsibilities – within their divisions or collaborating with other Shinigami, and sometimes even attending social gatherings. Every once in a while, lieutenants would have their own assemblies to help their captains run things smoothly and get along internally within the ranks of the Gotei 13, making plans and trading ideas in case any of their captains were unable to continue with their duties and the lieutenant had to carry on (Kira, Hisagi, and Hinamori, shouldering each other through their captains initial defections and the war afterwards, had more than enough experience in that regard, bitter but hard-learned lessons they'd eventually divulged to the rest).

It was much less formal than the Captains Council, and often times only nine out of twelve would attend regularly when not on a mission, so when the Captain Commander mandated that lieutenants be in attendance with the captains in First Division Headquarters once a month…it was safe to say more than a few felt unprepared and a little nervous.

The vice-captains had no problems with their own division leaders, but dealing with more than one captain was intimidating. Seeing all thirteen in one room, stone-faced and professional, flooding with insurmountable power, control, and skill, was absolutely nerve-wracking.

Thus their Lieutenant's Assembly began, a consensus falling over all vice-captains to have a brief, organizational meeting before the Captain's Council to gather information in order to present it in a much more structured manner in front of their captains and the Commander as well as lessen the chance that they'd make a fool of themselves in front of the highest ranking Shinigami in Soul Society.

Rukia was so lost in thought that she didn't notice the other shinigami before they collided, nearly sending her to the ground. She noticed the flash of flaming red hair and immediately kicked the offender in the shin, savoring the satisfying yelp, "Watch where you're walking, Renji."

Renji glowered at her, rubbing his shin. "Hey, I was just coming to make sure you made it on time. You know how uptight Shuuhei gets when one of us is even a minute late."

Rukia smirked, "I thought you'd be more wary of Ise-fukutaichou after she chewed you out last month. She  _is_  head of the Lieutenant's Assembly after all."

"I was giving Kuchiki-taichou overdue paperwork!"

"And why was it overdue?"

"I – well, he – uh…" The redhead stuck his tongue out at her and continued to banter as they made their way to the Eighth Division barracks.

* * *

"You're late."

Renji quailed under Ise Nanao's stern gaze, discreetly taking a half-step behind Rukia as the petite woman towered over them both with the same glare that more often than not got the Eighth Division captain to do his paperwork.

Rukia swallowed hard and nodded politely, " _We_  apologize for the delay, Ise-fukutaichou."

She emphasized her 'we' by jabbing an elbow into Renji's side, who gave a pained grin in apology.

Nanao glared them down for another moment before relenting and turning her attention back to the assembled lieutenants watching in amusement. Despite adding three captains to vacant divisions, not much had changed in the vice-captain ranks except for Mashiro's presence sharing Hisagi's seat in the Ninth Division (which was more for Kensei's sake rather than there being any doubt to Hisagi's ability to run the division).

"All right, time to begin the fourth gathering of the Lieutenant's Assembly. First Division."

Chojiro Sasakibe straightened where he stood, "Present. No new news regarding the disappearances of the three First Division unseated officers, Kanjiro Hirose, Mina Sekozawa, or Ikku Kokan. Fourteenth Seat, Rei Numata, reported the residents of Kusajishi, North Rukongai, have also disappeared. Twelfth Division members are analyzing the area."

Nanao nodded, lips thinned into a hard line as she swiftly took notes on her clipboard, and Mashiro fell silent.

Rukia couldn't blame them – the incidents and disappearances, which had started nearly three weeks ago, were too much like one hundred years ago, when whole districts used to vanish because of Aizen's experiments. "Second Division."

Omaeda swallowed a mouthful of chips, "Present. No disappearances or deaths in the Second Division, but a few Onmitsukido members returned injured a week ago with severe burns. They've been hospitalized but none have woken up yet. No information so far."

And so it went, with every division vice-captain giving his or her report – except Kira, who was on a mission in the southern districts with a small squad of four under his command and not expected to return for another five days. Nearly everyone was grimfaced by the end, each division reporting strange situations or disappearances of seated and unseated officers. The Fourth Division vice-captain, Kotetsu Isane, divulged that Unohana was having trouble treating the wounds on some of the seated officers that were injured in the field like the Onmitsukido members, but more would be revealed at the Captain's Council.

The most disturbing report was from the Twelfth Division.

Kurotsuchi Nemu was impassive, "The Twelfth Division has multiple teams analyzing reports and collecting samples from North Rukongai, District 79, and West Rukongai, District 80 where Omaeda-fukutaichou and Matsumoto-fukutaichou reported souls disappearing. Raw data indicates that residents did not disappear but were killed and their reiyoku was degraded. Reports are inconclusive as to what could cause such corrosive damage not already recorded in the Twelfth Division's files. All other information is classified."

Everyone was silent.

Renji sighed, rolling his neck to relieve the knots he could feel building and dispelling the tension in the room, "Well, better get going. Don't wanna keep the captains waiting."

The other lieutenants nodded in agreement and headed out.

* * *

"ICHIGOOOO!"

Said orange-haired teen sighed and with a disinterested expression, swiftly clotheslined his hyperactive friend before he could get even more rambunctious.

Keigo had gotten better over the year and a half, able to reign in the impulsive urges that used to get him slapped by every female within ten feet of him (Ichigo didn't like to think about it because he knew Keigo's maturity was partially due to Aizen's influence), but sometimes he reverted to his young, freshman self. He ignored the pathetic choking noises his friend made as the group settled on the rooftop without a glance at the familiar scene.

"Kurosaki-kun, what are you doing over break?" Orihime asked, bright and bubbly as usual.

Something less than brilliant still lingered in her gaze, remnants of Tsukishima's meddling in her memories still plaguing her (and even deeper, the nightmares of her capture and the war), but she was better overall and smiled in a familiar, sweet way.

"Tatsuki-chan invited me to a mixed martial arts tournament! They have these cooking classes in the building across the street for free to teach proper nutrition for athletes! I'm so excited!"

Ichigo held back a snort – those instructors were in for a real treat when they saw what Orihime tried to feed her friends on a weekly basis.

"Sounds fun. Going to assert your dominance over the other contestants, Tatsuki?"

The black haired martial artist smirked in reply, "Nah, but my coach scored me some backstage passes to meet some of the seminar instructors in person. I'm gonna challenge every one of them to an arm wrestling match if it's the last thing I do!" She flexed her arms for good measure and dragged Keigo into a loose chokehold, eliciting a round of snickers and nervous laughter from the captive teen.

Ichigo glanced at Chad questioningly, silently giving him his cherry tomatoes Yuzu packed extras of, and the gentle giant nodded in thanks, "The school accepted my request to be a student representative to Mexico. I'm leaving a day before break begins." His intention to visit his grandfathers' grave, to made amends after what the other Xcution members had done, was understood and left unsaid.

The general question turned to Keigo, now free of Tatsuki's terrifying hold, "I'm stuck going to a bunch of my sisters stupid Student Council meetings out of town. Mizuiro's only coming cause his new girlfriend lives out by where our main stop is."

Mizuiro smiled politely – with an edge of sadistic amusement, Ichigo noted – as their usual banter began.

The group was used to their shenanigans and turned to the Quincy sitting among them. "What about you, Ishida-kun?"

Ishida's proper posture became noticeably rigid and Orihime opened her mouth to backtrack but the Quincy merely sighed, relaxing slightly as he did so, and reluctantly divulged, "My…father and I are traveling to Tokyo for the majority of the break to attend a medical conference."

Ishida's usual stern expression gave nothing away but Ichigo knew him better than that and saw the lines of tension around his mouth as well as the flash of anticipation that flickered through his steady gaze. The Quincy wasn't nearly as put-off as he tried to make himself sound, but he wasn't exactly jumping for joy at the prolonged, isolated contact with his father.

"He's going to teach me more about the Quincies history as well as a few techniques," his eyes sharpened with amusement and some exasperation when he sent a pointed look at Ichigo, "and he wants to keep me far away from bad company for as long as possible."

Ichigo scowled as his friends laughed, but his expression melted into one of content. Okay, so maybe he wasn't the greatest influence in the three worlds, but it he didn't  _make_  the younger Quincy fight – although he was partially to blame for the many incidents surrounding Karakura.

Orihime turned to him expectantly and he gave a half-shrug. "Yuzu won some prize drawing and got a few tickets to a beach side resort for a week."

Orihime blinked in surprise, "So you're going to be out of town too?"

Ichigo shook his head, "Not interested."

As much fun as it would've been to lie in the sun and just relax with his family for once, the orange-haired teen found the idea unappealing.

It wasn't just him being suspicious of the sudden good fortune going around (which he totally was and, with his luck, it was completely justifiable) or him just being a stick in the mud (also justifiable), but he needed some time to himself.

He was thankful to have his powers back, grateful to the shinigami that had put their faith in him, and glad that he could finally help protect Karakura with his friends again, but adjusting to his previous lifestyle after months of living without it (without the comfort of half his soul, without the power that hummed beneath his skin, without the ability to protect) wasn't something he wanted to do in a hotel. He wanted to be by himself without dwelling on the 'what ifs' that had dominated his life for the last year and a half. He needed time to reconnect with his soul and explore the new realms his Fullbring had opened.

Tatsuki rolled her eyes at his offhanded answer but didn't say anything.

She'd run into Yuzu, quite literally, the day the young girl got the tickets and listened as Yuzu babbled cutely about how much fun it would be to go on vacation with her sister and father but that she would miss Ichigo and  _Tatsuki-nee, can you make sure Onii-chan is okay while we're gone?_  When Tatsuki had asked why Ichigo wasn't going with them, Yuzu brightened, face glowing with adoration for her big brother that made Tatsuki smile.  _There were five tickets so Onii-chan suggested taking Jinta and Ururu instead since Urahara-san and Tessai-san are out of town. He says he wants to stay home and relax but he's just being nice again!_

Tatsuki knew that wasn't the whole reason (and note to self, she really had to figure out who the hell Jinta, Tessai, and all these people were, she'd known about Soul Society and Shinigami for over a year now dammit), but she wouldn't push it this time.

Instead, she leered, "Yeah right. You just don't want your old man to hook you up with any beach bunnies and cause a scene."

Ichigo rolled his eyes and grumbled half-heartedly as his friends laughed and soon he was laughing with them, but something in his chest coiled tightly despite the happiness that flooded him.

His friends were happy, his family was safe, and he could finally do his duty as a substitute shinigami again.

So why did everything feel so wrong?


	4. Opportunities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed this chapter! Have a nice day :D

_I wonder what Tsuna and Gokudera are doing now._

Yamamoto blinked when a gloved hand was waved in front of his face and grinned up at the sight of his fellow baseball player. "Yo Taniguchi, what's up?"

Taniguchi grinned back, excitement written all over his face. "Coach said we're still about a day away from Nishinomiya with all this traffic so we're staying at a hotel for the night. Says the host for the tournament is payin' for everything, can you believe it?"

"Man, if I have to share a room with Monta, I'm gonna throw him out a window."

"Oi!"

"Tch, at least  _he_  doesn't snore like a damn thunderstorm."

"Huh? You talkin' about me?!"

The baseball star gave a good-natured laugh as his teammates started to squabble about rooming arrangements, but something didn't settle well with him.

Ever since his team received news that they'd been selected as special guests to the National High School Baseball Invitational Tournament – one of two of the largest baseball tournaments held in Japan – he'd felt something off beneath the shock and excitement. It was a once in a lifetime chance, the opportunity to practice with experienced high school teams and meet professional baseball stars and try to impress a few of the scouts that would be there, but it was almost too good to be true.

After all, his school had been informed that all the invitational slots had been filled early on in the year, which was disheartening for a while but expected. Yamamoto had had other things to worry about at the time, like joining Tsuna in his mafia game. Then, right after his battle with Small Gia and Big Pino, coach had announced a team had dropped out, opening a slot for Namimori baseball team to fill. They had been only given a one-week notice to prepare and had been whisked away in a hurry when the tournament was still a few days away.

Yamamoto didn't pay it much mind at the time. He had been too caught up in the haze of excitement that had enveloped his team as well as concentrating on recovering from his injuries so he could participate.

Then he'd gone to Tsuna with the news, grinning broadly and feeling like a kid again.

Tsuna was happy for him, like Yamamoto knew the brunette would be, and there had been relief when his friend encouraged him to go. He knew Tsuna still felt guilty about all the battles they'd been through, the fact that their increasingly mafia-like lifestyle was trying to make him choose between the bat and the sword, but that guilt wasn't what made Tsuna smile and tell him to go. He genuinely enjoyed Yamamoto's happiness when he played baseball and he really did want to see his friend play the game he held so dear. Yamamoto's loyalty to the brunette only solidified at that point and was quick to head home and get ready to leave, heart settling contentedly with his friends encouraging words and fathers warm laughter.

Only now did he realize how abrupt it all seemed.

"Oh come on! I don't want to sleep in the same room as  _him_ , his feet'll stink up the whole room!"

"You're one to talk. You fart so much I'm surprised you don't suffocate yourself."

"I don't talk in my sleep!"

"Do you know how much he drools? Like, bucket-fulls. It's gross."

"Settle down all of you!"

The coaches bark silenced the rowdier complaints and brought Yamamoto out of his darkening thoughts.

_Haha, I'm thinking way too much about this. Tsuna's right, I should just enjoy the break._

The tournament wouldn't last too long, even less than usual because they weren't actually  _in_  the tournament so they didn't have to participate in the mandatory pre-tournament week of practice. He'd call Tsuna and Gokudera once in a while to make sure everything was okay.

Well, maybe just Tsuna since Gokudera would probably just yell at him and call him paranoid after the whole Vindice fiasco if he said anything then hang up.

With that thought in mind, he settled in his seat and listened to their coach's instructions.

* * *

Reborn was in a foul mood when he entered the mansion and every Mafioso within two hundred feet could feel his wrath.

The flight had had some unexpected delays and had taken two hours longer to reach Italy, causing the pilot to periodically suffer minor anxiety attacks because of the impatient hitman on board. Traffic had been horrendous on the way to headquarters, delaying him another hour he really couldn't afford. On the way, he'd had to listen to several voicemails that had reported a dozen more family members going MIA in the day that it took him to get from Namimori to Rome. One in particular nearly made him break his phone.

" _We've located the bodies of several allies that had gone missing three months ago."_

Suffice to say, even Colonello didn't say anything when Reborn made his way through the grand halls and entered the private conference room, barely acknowledging the only six occupants.

Nono stood at the head of the conference table, more lines etched onto his face than Reborn could remember with his dour Storm Guardian, Coyote Nougat, beside him. Squalo, heavily bandaged and scowling but professional all the same, sat a few chairs down as the Varia's representative, unsurprising seeing as the rest were still recovering from severe injuries (even with a hole in his chest, his was the most tame). Fon, who greeted him with a subdued nod, was opposite of Squalo and calmly sipped his tea. A little closer to the double doors, Colonello looked up, mouth slanted in a grim line beside Lal Mirch – despite their recent success in breaking the curse, instead of the content she'd found in having her adult body back, her arms were crossed and her face was cold.

The fact that his idiot former student Dino, along with his aide Romario, weren't present made him uneasy.

It seemed the situation was much graver than Nono made it out to be in his letter, but Reborn picked that up himself with his various contacts and shrugged off the tension in the room.

Nono greeted him with a strained smile that he didn't return. "Reborn."

"Nono." The hitman tipped his hat respectfully and jumped up onto the tabletop, picking up the file that his fellow ex-Storm Arcobaleno slid to him silently. No one spoke as he read over the report, and something ugly coiled tightly in his chest.

TOP SECRET FILE

_Operation: Wild Fire_

_Head Investigator: Jean Kirschtein_

_Base of Operations: Bordeaux, France_

_Report: XX-XX-XXXX_

_Commander of European Division, Erwin Smith, reporting three missing personnel from French, English, and Russion Branches respectively: Hanji Zoe, scientist studying Hyper Dying Will Flames, Armin Arlert, temporary assistant to Hanji Zoe, and Annie Leonhardt, field agent reassigned to Bordeaux, France._

_Vongola Nono,_

_As acting senior officer of Operation Wild Fire, I am requesting the assistance of your best team of investigators. There have been no leads, no evidence, and no signs of kidnapping or forced entry into the main laboratory or dormitories where the three soldiers were last seen._

_We suspect that an unknown party has taken Hanji Zoe and Armin Arlert for their collective knowledge of the Hyper Dying Will Flame and more importantly, the formula used to create Vongola Decimo's HDW supplement and personal physiology, but it is unknown why Annie Leonhardt is also missing._

_My partner, Marco Bodt, reasons that she may have been taken as well for her knowledge of the layout and security of Vongola's French, Russian, German, and Norwegian bases due to multiple reassignments. I disagree._

_We are currently screening officers that were on and off duty at the time and checking alibis, but I believe that whatever is happening is only the beginning. Time is of the essence._

_Dieu vous garde,_

_Jean Kirschtein_

The short, almost dismissive 'I disagree' made Reborn frown.

The senior officers credentials were right under the short missive along with more elaborate information on the case. Distantly, Reborn acknowledged that Kirschtein had a near perfect track record with numerous commendations and a flood of reports singing his praises, but all the hitman could think at the moment was  _Tsuna's in danger because of his incompetence._ However, he knew he was being unfair and that he was needed here.

Information regarding Tsuna's transformation, and by extension, his blood inheritance to Vongola Primo and the famed Hyper Intuition, was extremely sensitive.

He closed the file and looked expectantly at Lal. "Have you contacted Iemitsu?"

She held his gaze and the ominous air in the room intensified. "We can't. We tried calling on his cell, work, and satellite phones but none of them are getting through and all contact with the ship has been cut off. We tried tracking down  _St. Maria_  by speedboat and helicopter but the ship isn't on its destined route, and no matter what deviations or possible ports it could've stopped at for an emergency or otherwise, we can't locate it. The captain hasn't radioed an SOS and we've found no traces of a shipwreck."

Colonello sighed. "Either the itinerary Iemitsu gave us was wrong or  _St. Maria_  was never just a regular cruise, kora."

Iemitsu was a lot of things – idiotic, overzealous, loud – but unprofessional he was not. Everything he did was triple-checked with the shrewd eyes of a calculating cynic, and if he'd had even an inkling of something going wrong, he would've never allowed Nana near such danger.

The implications were clear.

A quick vision flashed through Reborn's mind, of him explaining to Tsuna why his mother and father weren't coming back, of taking the brunt of Tsuna's sorrow and rage at suddenly becoming an orphan, and it left him feeling cold and unsettled.

Squalo didn't need prompting and reported in a clipped tone, "Low-ranking Varia members sent an incomplete report from Israel two weeks ago. Communication was down due to a severe sandstorm and we attributed the interrupted call to natural interference. When the dispatched retrieval team got to the satellite base three days later, no one was there. No evidence to suggest a confrontation took place and the fourteen Varia members stationed there are declared traitors to kill on sight."

Reborn saw Fon frown at the brutality of the order, but they both understood the necessity of it.

Assassins like the Varia carried invaluable skills and information, things that could hurt Vongola in the future, and that was unacceptable.

Fon continued calmly, "The Triads are agitated and have become distrustful. Trade lines have been thinning and there is less activity overall in Hong Kong and Beijing. I'm still investigating, but due to rising tension over territory breaches, I can't interfere without instigating a nationwide feud." The former Storm Arcobaleno's gaze was solemn and apologetic, but there was nothing they could really do.

The air in the room got heavier and Reborn tugged his fedora over his eyes.

Their contacts in China and most of Asia were isolated.

More than a few of their supply and information bunkers in the Middle East were being shut down.

Famiglia members were missing, going missing, or recently found dead.

They had no leads as to what phenomena was occurring not just to Vongola, but many influential families across the globe.

Essentially, Vongola's sight and hearing had been quartered in less than two weeks while the intricate balance between international syndicates had been tipping in an unknown party's favor for two months.

Squalo gave no indication that he was bothered by any of the information presented and Fon, Colonello, and Lal were silent in their musings, but once upon a time there had been a future where they'd all been hunted like animals, surviving day to day in fear of being caught once and for all, and they each had those memories forever haunting them. Reborn had lived it, training his student and guardians to their limits and pretending not to notice Bianchi's quiet sobs in the middle of the night, or Fuuta's pained smile when Tsuna was too close, or the despair in Yuni's smile whenever the hitman settled on her shoulder.

None of them wanted to experience that broken future ever again, but Reborn a disturbing feeling that the beginning of the end was much like what they were experiencing now.

Nono seemed to have aged another few years in the last few minutes, but he squared his shoulders.

"Lal, Colonello, please return to CEDEF headquarters and select a team to assist Jean Kirschtein in the investigation in France. Send a representative to England as well to speak directly with Commader Erwin Smith. Have Oregano and Tumeric continue searching for  _St. Maria_  but send Basil to Japan to accompany Tsunayoshi-kun and his guardians."

Both former Arcobaleno nodded determinedly.

The aging man turned to Squalo, "Inform Xanxus of the situation. However, the Varia is confined to Vongola Headquarters until your injuries are no longer critical."

Squalo bit back a scowl and merely tilted his head in acquiescence. Nono's wording made it clear that the Varia, while physically restricted to Italy, had free reign to continue operations elsewhere.

"Fon, return to China for now. If the situation becomes increasingly hostile, use your best judgment to determine what to do from there. Avoid taking risks."

The former Storm Arcobaleno nodded.

"And Reborn." The hitman met Nono's unreadable gaze. "I have a special assignment for you."

* * *

Awareness came to Tsuna slowly, like he was sluggishly wading through thick molasses to reach consciousness. With a wince, he opened his eyes and blearily squinted at the light shining through ornate floor-to-ceiling windows.

_Where am I?_

Suddenly, memories of stone walls and cold metal and orange hair crashed over him in a tidal wave, pulling him from the lingering affects of his restless sleep as he sat up sharply in surprise. Immediately afterwards, he cringed and nearly crumpled into himself as he bit back a cry of pain.  _Itiiieee…_ His muscles were on fire, like they were cramping up all over, and his shoulders and wrists ached as if he'd been hanging from them for days. The nausea that threatened to overcome him was also an unwelcome surprise.

It took a long moment to orient himself, but eventually his body was under control. He'd been through worse with Reborn's training after all. Tsuna cautiously looked around the room and noticed he wasn't alone.

Hard amber eyes bore into his own warm brown. "Tsuna, you alright?"

Tsuna blinked and slowly nodded. "U-um, I think so."

The older teenagers gaze lingered on him a moment later, but if he had any doubts he didn't say, and Tsuna let out a sigh when Ichigo stood up to search and survey the room, something Tsuna should've probably been doing.

A flush of embarrassment colored Tsuna's cheeks when he realized Ichigo probably saw his little episode.  _So lame…_ then again, Ichigo must've suffered from the same effects despite not showing any discomfort now. Tsuna uncurled slowly, relieved that the fire in his veins had lessened considerably, but his shoulders still hurt and with a frown, he realized why.

He still had the strange black cuffs on his wrists binding his hands tightly together.

Even worse, he felt cold, the kind of chill that reached his bones and froze his core, the kind of cold he'd only felt a handful of times before when he and his friends faced Verde during the Arcobaleno Trials.

_I…I can't feel my flames!_

The familiar power that hummed beneath his skin and warmed his fingertips was  _gone_  and the sudden panic that threatened to overwhelm him was devastating. He'd been helpless, defenseless,  _weak_  plenty of times before, but the aching sense of loss was profound.

Reborn's voice, sharp and reprimanding, cut through the haze of fear.

" _You have to remain calm, Tsuna. Panicking will only make the situation worse. You need to think clearly. Distract yourself, think-"_

_-of something else, think of something else!_

He thought of his mother and her wonderful cooking, his friends as they fought and laughed together, his tutor whose strength he had come to rely on in almost every situation, and the panic slowly ebbed until he could think without that fearful, cloudy haze in his head again. Thankfully, Ichigo didn't seem to notice as he slowly investigated the room, looking for clues to explain…explain what exactly? Why they were here? How to escape?

That was when he noticed the white cuffs that encircled Ichigo's wrists, nearly identical to his own in all but color and material. While his was a smooth, metallic black, cold enough to send chills up his arms, Ichigo had white, grainy stone.

A thought struck him. "I-Ichigo-san, how long have we been here?"

"A few hours probably." He jerked his chin towards the ornate floor-to-ceiling windows. "The sun's still up but we haven't been asleep for more than a day."

Tsuna's internal clock must've been off from the drugs and constant sleep then. He wasn't really tired but his body was still exhausted and shutting down like he'd been staying up all night playing video games.

"Oi Tsuna, check this out." Ichigo called, and Tsuna jolted upright in surprise.

The orange haired teen was staring at something on the antique desk lined up along the wall a few feet from where he sat, draws open and pages scattered. Tsuna stood on shaky legs and made his way over to Ichigo's side, squinting at the strange print that covered the paper.

_E-Eh? This isn't Japanese. I don't think it's English either…and it doesn't look like any of Gokudera-kuns Italian books. Hiiieee!_

Ichigo, after scrutinizing the page with an intensity and silence that made Tsuna a little uncomfortable, concluded with a frown, "I think it's German."

Tsuna blinked. "Eh, how can you tell?"

The bright haired teen gave a little smirk, making his scowl disappear, "See that letter with two dots over it? It's an umlaut. At least, I'm pretty sure it is."

He leaned a bit closer to look at the crest printed in the corner then looked over Tsuna's head to look at something else.

Tsuna followed his gaze and nearly screeched when he saw the ugly pig looking thing over the doorway.

It was a coat of arms, similar to Vongola's crest with its intricate lines and inherent sense of antiquity, but it was a simpler design that featured a boar's head with more unfamiliar scrawls. "Looks pretty important…like a family crest..." he murmured, taking another look at the document. It vaguely reminded him of the letter the Cervello had presented to him and his friends during the battle for the Vongola rings, a formal letter from someone powerful. "Did you study German?"

Ichigo glanced at him, wary and nostalgic, and the corner of his lips quirked up, "My little sister, Yuzu, likes to watch foreign dramas. One of her favorites is  _Dresden_  and she usually drags Karin, my other little sister, my dad and I to watch it with her."

The brunette didn't expect him to say anything like that, but it warmed Tsuna to know that this was Ichigo telling him he trusted him too. He smiled, "Sounds fun. My mom likes French soap operas."

His eyes landed on one of the papers Ichigo couldn't identity and his eyes widened.

"That's French. I think those are…accent marks? Or something like that. I know they have two kinds."

Ichigo looked at him again, something like approval in his gaze, before his small smile fell at the sound of footsteps in the corridor. Since Ichigo didn't bother to move from his place in front of the desk, neither did Tsuna, though he was close to breaking out in a nervous sweat.

_They're not gonna like us going through their stuff…_

He could almost feel Reborn kicking him in the head for the thought.

" _They've kidnapped and drugged you, Dame-Tsuna. Who cares if they don't like you snooping."_

What little courage those imagined words had given him fled quickly when the doors opened and he was flooded with a sense of claustrophobia.

Two of the five men from the dungeons entered, one sweeping in grandly while the other followed at a sedate pace. It was dark in the basement, but Tsuna recognized the two easily; the young man that had leered at them and the silent old man that hadn't spoken a word.

Even in a well-lit room, the two were imposing – the younger could be considered handsome with his dark hair and piercing eyes, and the older man looked younger in the light with less shadows cast across his face, but both still had that edge of falseness that bothered Tsuna. Ichigo tensed beside him, eyes moving over the two men like they weren't important and searching for something with them, but Tsuna found it difficult to focus on anything at all. It took a moment before he jerked out of his stupor, blinking confusedly at a corner of the room before refocusing on the Bear-something. What did the guard call him again?

The scary one that reminded him vaguely of Byakuran from the future gave a parody of a smile. "Well, well, well, our guests of honor are awake. Please, have a seat." He mockingly motioned with his arm for them to sit on the two couches where they'd woken up initially.

Tsuna gulped and slowly moved forward, wary and nervous.

When he didn't feel Ichigo following, he glanced back and saw the teens face, jaw tight with anger. He could see the rebellion in the bright haired teens eyes rising, so much like Gokudera it wasn't even funny, but he fought down the homesickness and fear.

He gently shook his head. "Ichigo-san…"

Ichigo glanced at him once, hard expression softening just a touch, and obliged much to Tsuna's relief.

They sat down next to each other with their backs to the windows as the other two men followed suit across from them, not one of them not speaking a word. Even though the younger man unsettled him, Tsuna was more wary of the older man's silence. He was the one that didn't speak at all in the dungeon, only needing to use one hand to instill a sort of primal fear into the guard.

"What do you want with us?"

Tsuna nearly had a heart attack at Ichigo's brusque question but he didn't miss the way the bright haired teens eyes would float over the man's shoulder, still searching for something not in front of him.

The man sneered, an ugly expression that twisted his foreign features into something cruel as he leaned forward in his seat as he warned in heavily accented Japanese, "Best not to speak to me that way, boy. I am the Baron of this castle and I control you two. Just be glad our patron favors you both and prefers that you are delivered  _unharmed_."

Tsuna jumped, but not because of the younger man's actions.

The older man, who he suspected was more than just an old man, had settled a hand on the Baron's knee. The Baron settled back in his seat and the older man pulled away.

Tsuna didn't know what to make of the interaction and instead hesitantly spoke up, "S-Sorry, but what do you want us for?" Reborn would've kicked him for stuttering.

The intense glaring contest between the Baron and Ichigo subsided as the Baron's cold eyes settled on him instead along with what felt like a dozen others. He didn't particularly like the feeling. The Baron's cruel smile changed again, this time to a Cheshire Cat with too much arrogance and not enough caution, "We are merely fulfilling our patrons tasks. Our duty is to keep you both until you're presence is required elsewhere."

"Then why not keep us in chains downstairs?" Ichigo retorted, body thrumming with energy. "Why bring us here when you could just as easily keep us out of the way in our cells?"

The Baron leaned even farther back in his seat, legs crossing and haughty smirk widening. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. You have to ask nicely like you're little friend here."

Ichigo narrowed his eyes, scowl growing fiercer, and Tsuna thought he was going to pass out from the tension, but before he could utter another sound, the older man stood. His cane, which Tsuna hadn't noticed before, thudded on the ground and it sounded like a war drum in Tsuna's head.

The Baron's smile sharpened as he looked at them again. "It's time."

Ichigo shot to his feet, eyes wide with alarm before he was forced back in his seat next to Tsuna, and it wasn't until he felt invisible hands all over him that the brunette realized why. Something was holding them down.

That was Tsuna's last thought before everything went black again.


	5. Alliance

Although Chad had already been in Mexico for a few days, this was the first time he'd been able to visit his grandfathers' grave.

After all, he'd been busy creating friendly relations within Mexican public schools (running) and helping out at charities where he could (hiding). He even occasionally dropped by his grandfathers' old orphanage, bigger with new additions and more children and enough laughter to fill the gaps in Chad's own childhood. His heart had squeezed painfully in his chest when he first caught sight of a few of the caretakers from when he was a child, older but with weathered smiles and genuine joy. The orphanage was doing well, and that was all Chad could ever ask for his grandfathers legacy.

All that, however, didn't excuse his cowardice, and he couldn't even wallow in his guilt alone.

"Sado Yasutora?"

This was the first time in years he'd stepped back on Mexican soil; the last time had been when he finished elementary school and couldn't stand the thought of living in the orphanage his abuelo used to own before his death, living with the guilt and suffocating under the fearful, pitying faces of the other caretakers, so he didn't understand how or why he was being approached now.

Chad lifted his head, eyes lingering on his grandfathers' monument a moment longer, and settled his gaze on the three men approaching on his right. Red flags went up in his mind immediately.

They were tall, broad-shouldered, and of Hispanic descent, but they spoke his foreign name with only a slight accent. They wore formal Mexican attire, finely made guyabaras with a floral design running up the side and nondescript black slacks and shoes, and their faces were average if not a bit intimidating due to their size. Overall, despite their appearance, their silent footsteps and nondescript clothes would've made them invisible in a crowd and Chad immediately felt unsettled by their presence.

He stood at full height, a few inches taller than each of them, and relaxed his shoulders with his arms settled by his sides. He chose to speak Japanese as well, "Yes. Can I help you?"

The one in front, flanked by the other two, nodded and without missing a beat, replied in kind, "My name is Rodriguez Mendoza and my associates, Salazar Ignacio and Vargas Isaac." Both men nodded but Chad didn't take his eyes off of Rodriguez. "We've been keeping an eye on you since you're arrival and we are here to escort you to headquarters for a few questions. Will you come quietly?"

They didn't move towards him threateningly and he didn't see any weapons, but he was far from naïve and wasn't at all comfortable going somewhere unknown with them.

Instead, he asked, "Who are you?"

Rodriguez's stoic expression didn't change when he exchanged glances with his two associates.

They were silent for a full moment, deliberating quietly, and the lack of words spoke volumes of their teamwork and respect for one another – as well as the level of secrecy they kept between them – before Rodriguez nodded once. "We are members of an powerful international organization. We three are the best trackers in our division and were ordered to find you."

Chad's stomach nearly dropped to his shoes, apprehension making his shoulders tense. He could read between the lines and knew 'international organization' was just another word for criminal syndicate.

He and Ichigo had dealt with bullies, gangs, and even a few lowly yakuza members in their years of middle and high school, but they'd never crossed paths with an organization of this caliber. There were just some territories one did not venture into lightly, a lesson his abuelo had mercilessly hammered into his mind when he was a child, and he and Ichigo were lucky to never have those kinds of influences in Karakura.

Now, however, it seemed his luck had run out.

Whoever these men were, they were dangerous, and Chad couldn't in good conscious fight them like he would hollows or shinigami, but he couldn't exactly not fight when there was a good possibility he'd end up beheaded with his body in a ditch and his head on a fence post.

He learned early on in his youth that the world was a cruel, gruesome place, filled with violent, greedy, lustful people that would do anything to satisfy themselves; it was one of the reasons why he left Mexico without looking back.

The men must've noticed his sudden uneasiness because the hard look on Rodriguez's face shifted to something a little less intimidating.

"We are not here to harm you, Sado Yasutora."

His stilted reassurance wasn't comforting.

The high school student discreetly shifted into a defensive stance, "Then why are you here? What does your syndicate want with me?"

The man on his right, Isaac, stepped forward, expression less apathetic and more impatient and anxious. "Our sources tell us that you used to know someone very important to us. We'd like to verify that information, but we need to get you somewhere secure."

Suspicion and dread curled in Chad's stomach. "Who?"

"Oscar Joaquín de la Rosa."

* * *

 

"All captains and lieutenants, fall in line."

All idle chatter ceased immediately at the Captain-Commanders words, the command echoing thunderously through the chamber as the lieutenants took their place by their captain's right side.

Renji couldn't help but notice the prickling tension in the room and how a few of his similarly ranked comrades were trying their hardest not to fidget nervously in the ensuing silence. Even Matsumoto's bright blue eyes flitted uncertainly to her tense captain for a moment before looking forward once more, and something like apprehension crept up his spine.

Whatever this meeting was about, he didn't think he was going to like what they were about to hear.

The Captain Commander listened to Nanao give her report over what the lieutenants found and with every mentioned disappearance, the lines creasing his face became deeper and his expressionless face was slowly marred with a deep frown. Even the neutral air surrounding the captains seemed to darken as their expressions similarly became stonier.

Renji tried to keep his face impassive but the edge of exhaustion that had been haunting his captain for the last week only seemed to weigh heavier on his shoulders, and the red-haired shinigami knew it was because of the Captains Council that was held two weeks ago. He hadn't been privy to the information at the time and left Byakuya alone when the nobleman waved him away to do other work, but Renji had a feeling the lieutenants were about to learn some new information that had been kept under wraps until now.

When Nanao finished her report, Yamamoto nodded in understanding. He looked to the Tenth and Twelfth Division captains; his tone brooked no room for arguments. "Kurotsuchi-taichou, Hitsugaya-taichou, report."

The scientist didn't look pleased, as usual, but something like interest lit his slightly crazed eyes and the icy captain's nearly indiscernible frown grew more prominent.

No, Renji didn't think he was going to like this meeting one bit.

Hitsugaya started, tone professional. "The Tenth Division, in conjunction with the Twelfth Division, has been investigating the mass disappearances of souls from several districts in Rukongai as reported by the First, Fifth, and Seventh Divisions. During one of our exploration of the surrounding districts, we've discovered three of Aizen's abandoned labs."

If the room hadn't been so tight with strain, Renji was sure there would've been an uproar from this new information.

The Vizards in particular had gone still, lingering resentment and bitterness edging their expressions in varying intensities before their faces went completely blank again. The only one who looked unaffected was Hirako Shinji who had probably known about Aizen's penchant for having several hiding places and merely clicked his tongue disinterestedly.

The Tenth Division captain continued, "The oldest lab, constructed about two centuries ago sometime before Aizen was promoted to Lieutenant, was found in North Rukongai in the Inuzuri District. Most of the files have been decrypted by the Twelfth Division and were mainly theories about the Hogyoku in its early stages as well as his plans for experimentation. It turns out Aizen was very meticulous about who he abducted, recording the time, place, method of capture, and the effects of the Hogyoku's energy on his test subjects."

He paused, staring pointedly at Kurotsuchi to take up where he left off. The captain sneered in return and instead snapped his fingers. "Nemu."

His lieutenant stepped forward, a mask of apathy settling over her features as she spoke indifferently. "It was revealed sometime ago that Sousuke Aizen captured and tested shinigami and souls in Rukongai in massive quantities, numbers reaching the hundreds. During his experiments, he offered them to the Hogyoku to absorb, and while we've been able to match reports of missing persons to assigned officers to the residual energy we collected from Aizen-san after his capture, there are still a large number of shinigami and souls unaccounted for that cannot be completely explained by hollow attacks."

Soifon's eyes narrowed and Omaeda, sensing her ire, shifted uncomfortably behind her.

Her words dripped with cold venom, not aimed at anyone in particular but still made Renji's hackles rise from the underlying accusation. "Someone else has been taking souls for the last two centuries?"

_Right under our noses?_

The silent implications were sobering. Not only had they been deceived for decades by one of their own, but they hadn't even noticed – _or cared to notice_ , Renji thought wryly with a sinking stomach – the strangeness of disappearing officers. Shiba Isshin had been one of the more notable cases but even then they hadn't searched as hard as they could as most had been under the assumption the older man had fallen the same way his nephew, Shiba Kaien, had sometime before. It was lucky that he'd simply eloped with a human instead of becoming a test subject.

The room became colder, air thickening with power and intensity and Renji was sure that his experience dealing with high levels of reiatsu near constantly was the only thing keeping him from dropping to his knees like a few of the lieutenants were tempted to do.

"That's not completely correct, Soifon-taichou."

Just like that, the pressure was gone, but the stress lingered.

Yamamoto didn't look surprised at the interruption, and although he usually didn't let intrusions go without an extensive dressing down or semi-harsh punishment, there wasn't really time to do so now.

Instead, he gazed steadily at the hologram of one of the most gifted, infuriating shinigami he'd ever had as a captain – the blonde, while happy to be welcomed back to Sereitei, had kept his distance as it seemed the alleviation of his exiled status erased much of the homesickness he'd undoubtedly experienced – and barked, "Urahara. Explain."

One hundred years of exile had hardened Urahara in ways ten years of captaincy could not, and the thin sliver of nervousness that once laced his words had been replaced with steel. Now he was all smiles, but even that impenetrable mask of knowing omnipotence was interrupted by uncharacteristically stormy grey eyes. Shinji narrowed his eyes at his friend, small smirk falling flat when he couldn't detect a hint of the other man's usually enigmatic smile.

"I would be glad to, but explanations will have to wait until later. It seems Kurosaki-san has become intimately involved in what you're investigating now and time is of the essence."

Most of the captains and lieutenants didn't react outwardly, somewhat unsurprised that their resident Substitute Shinigami was in the thick of trouble again, but there was something different this time that few picked up on. Rukia's eyes widened fractionally, lips thinning into a hard line while Ukitake's composed professionalism cracked just a bit in worry. Shinji's smile vanished completely, and despite Kensei and Otoribashi's calm exteriors, the enormous tension that had ebbed to some extent was back.

Renji shared a look with Rukia and they both internally groaned.

_What did you get into this time, Ichigo?_

* * *

 

If there was one thing Ishida hated more than hollows and a handful of shinigami, it was a room full of pretentious, headache inducing humans.

Why did Ryuuken bring me here again?

' _Here_ ' being one of the most prominent medical conferences in the world, where the elite of the elite in the medical field flocked to share their research and, in most cases, boast to each other about their success and preen in the spotlight with their trophy spouses.

The worst, in Ishida's humble opinion, were the up and coming young surgeons and scientists, only a few years older than the high school student, that had made names for themselves in their chosen field, entirely too used to the title and paychecks as they tried to one up each other. More than a few doctors in attendance were tangled in the politics that threaded the medical community, and those who had not yet fallen into that trap were slowly succumbing to the temptation. There was even a casually disheveled man wearing a typical lab coat flitting to almost every woman in sight to dish out different but equally pathetic pick up lines.

No wonder why his father was loath to go alone, expression cold and blank as women and men converged on the hospital director with the ferocity of voracious sharks.

Misery loved company.

It was even worse because the typical madness of one Kurosaki Isshin was not here to stem the tide this year. Usually, as respected as the man was while only running a small family clinic, his spastic behavior was enough to deter even the most persistent suitors, and Uryuu had a feeling the man's over exuberance wasn't completely genuine.

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on who you were asking), this wasn't his fathers first time coming – before becoming a hospital director, Ishida senior had made quite a name for himself in the medical field, and invitations were never absent from their mailbox around this time of year – but it had been a while since Uryuu remembered his father actually looking forward to it.

Okay, maybe not looking forward to it.

However, this was more than his father's reluctant, obligatory attendance. This year, Ishida had actually noticed the masked curiosity in his father's tone before they arrived. Perhaps an acquaintance was meeting him here?

"You're Ishida-sensei's son, are you not?" a pretty young woman asked, eye as bright as the diamond earrings she wore.

Ishida resisted making a face because more than a dozen people had already asked him the very same question, all with unpleasant intentions or haughty condensation lurking in their words that made him grit his teeth. It didn't help that something had been brushing along the very periphery of his senses on and off for the whole night, setting him on edge.

His apathetic expression never wavered. "Yes."

The woman didn't look put off by his unwelcoming reply as she bat her eyes and leaned closer, "You're father is a very talented man, Ishida-kun. Would you mind introducing me so that we could discuss –"

Ishida stopped listening to her lofty words, jolting forward when a rough shove pushed him from behind. It wasn't the abrupt rudeness of the action that stunned him speechless, but the strange sensation that had been taunting him all night suddenly becoming almost overwhelming in its intensity, like a shock of electricity zinging through his back.

"…damn doctors…stupid fucking experiments…"

Turning, he glared at the young individual that shouldered passed, catching the smoldering anger and sharp intelligence in the teenagers eyes before he made his way towards the exit. The Quincy didn't even have time to reprimand the young – too young to be a surgeon, perhaps a relative or apprentice – man before he was too far for his words to carry.

A flash of deep, wine red caught his eye before someone else slipped through the crowds easily, as quick and silent as a shadow.

The strange encounter left his mind when Ishida saw his father subtly motion for them to leave. Frigidly polite, he addressed the woman with a tight smile and brushed passed, "Excuse me, I must go." The weariness of the evening was alleviated slightly in favor of relief, but Ishida – at his fathers side, somewhat distracted with the excitement of seeing one of the best orchestras in the world perform – couldn't help but feel like something big was coming.

I'll contact Kurosaki and the rest later. Worse comes to worse, they'll call me paranoid. Ishida thought wryly with a smirk.

He didn't see the grim frown that flashed across his fathers face.

* * *

 

"Sado Yasutora."

Chad lifted his head, eyes immediately drawn to the toddler with old eyes and a cryptic smile standing on the table in front of him. That was the third time today he'd been addressed by his full name and it was putting him on edge. "Yes."

The toddler tipped his fedora, "My name is Reborn, the strongest hitman in the world and advisor to the Vongola Famiglia. Nice to meet you."

Chad nodded in response, not quite sure how to react to the not-child, but he believed every word.

He'd seen too many strange things to feel doubt, to question something like this now, and he wasn't stupid or ignorant enough to try and deny what his instincts were telling him, that this 'child' was dangerous. After all, normal children couldn't speak full sentences or stare at him intimidatingly. Normal children didn't wear suits or fedoras. Normal children didn't address him like _he_ was the younger one.

To Chad, it just meant the baby clad in the color of shadows wasn't a child at all.

This Reborn somewhat reminded the high school student of the Eighth Division Captain – Kyoraku Shunsui, with his sakura kimono and laidback smile and deadly strength – and he knew he was in the presence of someone infinitely dangerous.

Silence had often served him well and he stuck to it now.

Reborn whipped out a cup of espresso from thin air, and Chad didn't bother to react – he'd seen stranger. However, he was unprepared for the hitman to speak Chad's native tongue perfectly, and the familiar language made him feel just the slightest bit homesick despite being just a few hours outside of Mexico City.

"I knew your grandfather, Joaquín."

It was odd hearing a stranger, a dangerous hitman at that, say his grandfathers name so casually as if they were old friends.

Something cold settled in the pit of Chad's stomach at the thought and he resisted the urge to put his head down and sleep because it was probably true. It was possible that this hitman, this Reborn, was lying to him to get answers or leverage by dredging up the memory of his only family, but what could Chad possibly know that the mafia didn't already?

The only other possibility made his heart clench.

His kind, patient, harmonious grandfather was a criminal.

An enigmatic smirk curled the not-child's face as he took another sip of his drink. "I like you. You're not annoying."

Chad didn't quite know what to make of that, heart aching and mind spinning.

"Anyway, your grandfather was indeed a criminal, but he wasn't a bad person. He was a good man, but I don't think I need to tell you that." A file hit the table before him. "Joaquín was responsible for saving many lives, including yours, by taking them in his orphanage and providing protection for the city."

The teen didn't miss the way Reborn sidestepped his grandfathers other activities, no doubt illegal and used to fund the orphanage and it's supplies. The file taunted him from where he sat, thick with at least an inch of pages and pictures hidden from view unless he reached out and opened it. The burning curiosity nearly set him on fire but cautious fear held him back. Did he really want to know?

What was he supposed to do with the information anyway? Why even show him this?

Chad honestly didn't know how he felt right then, finding out that the man that raised him and cared for him and instilled his staunch morals into him was involved in the dark underbelly of society, but he wasn't completely surprised either. He'd always been somewhat skeptical of his grandfathers guarded answers, the way he was able to sometimes make grown men scamper with just one look, and now his uncertainties were confirmed.

It didn't explain why he was being approached now, why they came to him in front of his grandfathers' grave and not in Japan when it was obvious it was well within their power to do so.

As if reading his mind, because it wasn't outside the realm of possibility, Reborn replied mirthlessly, "A student of mine has been taken."

The young Mexican snapped his eyes up to meet Reborn's unreadable gaze, surprised and wary. The coy edge to the hitman's smirk had disappeared along with espresso and easy demeanor, his mouth becoming a hard, slanted line instead. This, Chad thought with mild wariness, this was the true face of the worlds strongest hitman. No pretenses or games. But he was startled at how unafraid he felt, not when the hitman allowed him to see beneath the childish face for a brief second, allowing him to glimpse the familiar disappointment, helpless rage, and self-loathing he'd seen in himself right after his grandfather passed. The promise of retribution. 

He didn't think he looked half as intimidating as the hitman before him, though.

The hitmans face closed off once more, unreadable as stone. "In Joaquíns' will, he left you enough money to move somewhere far away and live on your own for a while," Reborn continued, and the wariness Chad felt grew into alarm. "He also left you something important. His medallion."

The weight of the coin resting against his chest, the very thing that held his memories with his abuelo and the vow he'd made so long ago, was suddenly excruciatingly heavy. Reborn wasn't saying everything and the constant change in subjects was giving Chad a headache. However, after growing somewhat used to Urahara's endless riddles, Chad knew a punch line was coming up and he had a feeling he wasn't going to like it.

"Why are you telling me all this?" he asked quietly, fists clenching on his lap beneath the table.

The smirk was back but it was far from victorious. "We believe that the medallion is the key to finding my idiot student. And your friend."

Something cold wrapped its hands around Chad's heart. His voice was hoarse. "Who?"

Reborn didn't blink. "Kurosaki Ichigo."

All at once, everything became static. His ears were filled with the sound of his heart pounding against his rib cage and his focus was no longer on the dangerous hitman before him. He couldn't tell if he was even still breathing because his friend was missing, his best friend that had saved him in more ways than one, his best friend that he would fight for, had fought for, would _die_ for–

 _Ichigo_.

"The three men that escorted you here were taken in by your grandfather as children and have dedicated their lives to his cause. Rodriguez in particular saw Joaquin as a father." Aching guilt shot through Chad right then, piling on top of his shock and almost leaving him breathless. "I'm telling you this because they will be escorting you where you need to go, protecting you if need be. You're friend is missing and you may be a target." As well as your medallion.

Chad remained still for a moment before nodding once, reining in the myriad of thoughts racing through his mind. He needed to be calm. He needed think. He needed to call–

"My friends." His voice was steady and calm despite the absolute anarchy churning in his gut and surprise didn't surface on Reborn's face. He'd probably anticipated that. "I need to call my friends. They may be in danger as well." The chameleon he'd noticed earlier but not really gave much thought to suddenly shape shifted into a green cell phone, and that was enough to shock Chad just a little out of his mounting, low-level panic.

Reborn agreed, tossing the lizard-phone at him, "The plane leaves in one hour, make your call before then. And don't worry about your host family; we've made arrangements with your schools program coordinator. They won't miss you."

"Where are we going?" No more questions, no hysterical objections, no unnecessary fuss.

Probably just the way the hitman liked it.

A beat of silence, then that smirk was back, knowing and pleased and full of mysteries the high school student would never unravel, but it was oddly comforting all the same despite leaving him in the dark.

"You'll see."


	6. Puzzles

For the first time in a very long time, Takeshi was lost.

His dad had disappeared, Tsuna was gone, Reborn wasn’t here, and Gokudera was nowhere to be found. It was like the four most influential people in his life, a part from his mother once upon a time, had suddenly fallen off the face of the earth into a void and he didn’t know what to do.  

For a moment, he almost wished he was with them even if that were the case.

He thought back to what seemed like a lifetime ago, when his unease was confirmed by a seemingly innocent call from his absent father.

_xxx_

_“Takeshi! How’s the tournament so far?”_

Takeshi’s face brightened, both at hearing his dads voice and the coach’s announcement that they would be meeting some professional players later in the day. The noise in their temporary locker room was loud, especially with the excited cheering that burst at the news, and he could barely hear his dad.  

Pressing the phone closer to his ear and covering the other with his hand, he half-shouted, “Hey old man! It’s great over here!”  

He paused with a grin as another round of cheers broke over the team before the din settled somewhat, low enough for him to speak normally again.

“We got to practice with some of the high school teams yesterday and today, and coach says we’re about to meet some professional baseball players. We even saw Suzuki Ichiro, the Rookie of the Year, American League MVP, and New York Yankee outfielder, and guess what? The legendary Hideki Matsui is here! You know, the 2009 MVP of the World Series and one of the best batters _ever_ with ten postseason homeruns, and–!”

“ _Whoa, slow down there son, I can barely understand all that. You have posters of them on the back of your door right?”_

Takeshi pinked at his father’s boisterous laughter, but his smile dimmed despite his seemingly amiable words. “Haha, yeah, sorry pops. It’s just really exciting to meet them.”

_“It’s not problem Takeshi, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself over there.”_

Again, the words rang false.  

Takeshi knew his father was genuinely happy and supportive of the trip, but something didn’t seem right, and suddenly the gnawing in his gut that he’d ignored for most of the tournament came back ten fold. He turned away from his teammates for a moment for some semblance of privacy and asked, with all the seriousness and worry a teenage boy could muster, “Hey dad, is everything alright over there?”

The phone was silent for a moment before his fathers warm voice came back over the phone, and despite his words, Takeshi didn’t feel any relief _. “Of course son, nothings wrong at all. Hey, you got your lucky bat with you, right?”_

Now the baseball player’s grin had all but disappeared in his confusion, hand reflexively reaching out and grabbing the baseball bat bag that carried his katana. He wasn’t exactly allowed to carry a shinai so he’d snuck it in along with his other regular bat. “Yeah dad, I don’t go anywhere without it,” he replied, excitement completely drained.

 _“Good, good. Just making sure. By the way, you should give your friends a call before you get too busy, I’m sure they’d love to hear from you. Gotta go Takeshi, lots of customers today!”_  

Beep.

Takeshi kept the phone to his ear a moment longer, stunned at his father’s abrupt goodbye.  

In spite of his father’s claim, hadn’t heard the familiar clamor of a busy restaurant, and he was sure something like a rock had dropped to the pit of his stomach. Heart racing, he immediately called Tsuna, and when no one picked up the phone after two attempts, called Tsuna’s house, then Gokudera’s cell, and then the Sasagawa residence.  

Nothing.

 _What’s going on over there guys?_ Takeshi thought worriedly, ignoring his teams laughter and banter behind him. He wasn’t one to raise red flags unnecessarily or bend under pressure, but even his naturally calm personality was starting to give way to uneasy apprehension.  

 _What do I do now?_  

His finger had hovered on the call button with the name _Superbi Squalo_ highlighted on his phone, but beat back the urge to call the older man. Even though Squalo had been his mentor in the future, Takeshi didn’t have all the facts yet an there was a good chance Squalo wouldn’t answer anyway, or would yell then hang up without Takeshi saying a word. After all, though his instincts were as good as any assassin, he didn’t have any solid facts and Squalo was probably busy. He kept scrolling, hoping to find a name that would be able to help or give him answers, and suddenly the answer smacked him the face. For a full minute, he swore he was every bit the idiot Gokudera accused him of being.  

He scrolled to the name that had been there from the beginning, mysteriously programmed into his phone days after his ridiculous suicide attempt, and had never been used until now _because I didn’t need to, because even when everything was going crazy, we were all together._

Two rings and a familiar voice came over the phone.

_“What is it Yamamoto?”_

Takeshi let out a breath of relief even though the hitman didn’t sound like he was in a good mood. “Hey Reborn! What’s going on? Are you guys playing a game over there? Maa, you should tell Tsuna and Gokudera to check their phones more often, haha. I was getting worried.”

The kids voice sharpened _. “What do you mean?”_

The rock in his stomach suddenly became a boulder.  

“Well,” Takeshi started, unsure, “my dad called me just now and we were talking but he sounded weird and hung up when he said the restaurant was busy, but I didn’t hear anyone else in the restaurant. And I just tried calling Tsuna, Gokudera, and senpai, but not one’s answering. I figured you guys must’ve been busy.”

It was silent for a moment and Takeshi felt the inexplicable need to fidget. _“Where are you now?”_

Takeshi blinked. “I’m at the National High School Baseball Tournament in Nishinomiya. Didn’t Tsuna tell you when I left a few days ago?”  

He heard the other mutter something like _“idiot student_ ” before replying, _“No, he didn’t. I’m on a plane to Mexico and Bianchi and Gokudera are in Tokyo. Since you couldn’t reach the Sasagawa’s, they’re probably gone too._ _Yamamoto,”_ Takeshi straightened instinctively, “ _get back to Namimori as quickly as you can. Don’t do anything stupid.”_  

Beep.

Takeshi stared at his phone, slightly bemused at being hung up on twice in one day, but the small slight was washed away by the sudden feeling of nearly overwhelming worry, only tempered by his Flame’s tranquil properties. No one was in town or answering their phones, and it seemed Tsuna hadn’t told anyone else he was going to be alone. Why?

“Whoa, Yamamoto. What’s with the scary look?” Taniguchi joked, slinging an arm around the taller baseball players shoulders.

Takeshi tried to smile, he really did, but it was strained with the knowledge that he needed to leave, _now_. His father’s unspoken words made sense now, and he didn’t like the implications – he didn’t need all the facts to know that if he stayed here and ended up being a target, his school friends would be in danger as well. He needed to get back home, needed to find Tsuna and everyone else so they could figure out what was going on, because suddenly this miracle trip to Nishinomiya felt less like a fun vacation and more like an effective distraction.  

Takeshi quickly grabbed his things, ignorant to his teammates sudden cries of surprise and dismay, and bolted out the door with some half-formed excuse of a family emergency, mind set on getting home as quickly as possible.

“ _Hey, you got your lucky bat with you, right?”_

_Keep your weapon close._

_Protect yourself._

_You’re not safe._  

xxx

_Midori tanabiku Namimori no..._

_Dai naku shou naku nami ga ii…_

Takeshi was pulled from his spiraling thoughts, digging through the memory for some kind of clue, a place to start looking, when he recognized the song. A small, fluffy yellow bird came into view, still singing as it landed gently in his palm.  

“Herbivore, herbivore!” the bird chirped.

Something tight in his chest loosened at the little birds cheeps, a feeling of purpose filling him again, and he grinned. “Haha, you must be Hibari’s bird. Hibird right?” The little bird pecked lightly at his thumb and he took it as confirmation. “Can you show me where Hibari is? He might know what’s going on.” He’d already checked the school, and aside from the usual Disciplinary Committee members on patrol, he hadn’t seen the prefect and none of the members he’d talked to knew either. It seemed Hibari had been busy over break.

Hibird chirped at him again, “Herbivore, herbivore!” before puffing up his feathers and taking off into the air.  

 _Guess that means I should follow._  

Takeshi followed the small bird to a familiar hill and was greeted by a long flight of old cement stairs stretched out before him with a torii at the top, the red gate looking almost surreal and spiritual in such bright light. His mind flashed to the future, when he and his friends battled for their lives in a game of Choice, and it was no surprise that Hibird had led him here.

Namimori Shrine had been Hibari’s base of operations in the future, after all.  

The swordsman was quick to ascend the stairs and was greeted by the abandoned courtyard of the shrine, empty of tourists and Hibird still chirping overhead. He wasn’t alone though. A few feet from the torii stood Hibari’s right hand man, Kusakabe Tetsuya.

“Yo, Kusakabe! Is Hibari here?” Takeshi greeted, smile a few shades too pale to be his normal, outgoing grin.  

Kusakabe was dressed in his familiar Disciplinary Committee uniform and didn’t seem surprised to see him, and if he noticed Takeshi's uncharacteristic agitation, he didn’t say. The older teen nodded once, motioning for the baseball player to follow as they made their way around to the back of the shrine. “Kyou-san is with a guest. I’m sure you two are already acquainted.”

Takeshi cocked his head to the side curiously before Kusakabe slid the shrine door open for him. On one side of the room was Hibari with a cup of tea before him, expression curiously calm despite his company. On the other sat someone Takeshi hadn’t even thought of since halfway through his first year of middle school.

The baseball player could only stare, missing Kusakabe’s amused smile.

A short wave. “Yo, Yamamoto.”

Takeshi blinked.  

“Mochida-senpai?”

* * *

 

It was early afternoon when Ryohei decided to go around the block for a quick jog.  

He had to keep in shape for the boxing tournament later that day, after all, and only half-heard his little sister’s worried warnings not to get lost and that she and the others would be out.

Their parents had surprised them by stopping in Nagoya at an inn instead of heading to Kyoto as planned for their family trip. They’d found great deals on a variety of activities for them all to do together and separately, and one of them was something Ryohei had dreamed of going since the group was founded.

PRIDE Fighting Championships.  

The main event was always held in Toyko every three years, the place the championship had formed, but because of their popularity and the growing number of boxers and MMA fighters in Japan, they had smaller but equally thrilling tournament/training sectors in other populous cities. Nagoya happened to be one of them, and Ryohei was more than extremely excited to see and meet some of the greatest names in fighting history. Kyoko and Haru had found plenty of things to do with the kids as well, including shopping and taking Lambo and Ipin to a few hands-on museums, while their parents went on all-day couples retreats.

Ryohei and Kyoko didn’t mind since their parents hardly got any alone time together, and Lambo and Ipin were more than enough of a handful to deal with in such a large city so different from their home in Namimori.

“EXTREME BOXING TOURNAMENT!” Ryohei shouted, thrusting his fists into the air excitedly.  

There were no bystanders on the street to look at him strangely – he’d gotten lost while training and now was in the intersection of what appeared to be an abandoned neighborhood – so hearing a few voices an alleyway away wasn’t something he expected.  

_More EXTREME people out training! EXTREME!_

* * *

 

“Hey baby, wanna hop on my bike and go for a ride? It’ll be fun.”

“U-Uh, no thank you…”

“Hey, leave us alone you bastards!”

“Shut up, bitch, I wasn’t talkin’ to you. But my buddies over there wouldn’t mind goin’ a few rounds with you.”

“Yeah, baby, we’ll take good care of you, geheheh. Wanna ride me instead?”

“Please just let us go.”

“You heard her you pigs! Just leave already, we’re not interested.”

“Mmm feisty one huh? Been a while since we’ve had one of those. Fine then, we’ll to do this the fun way. Break her.”

That was all Ryohei needed to hear before he was running full speed towards where he heard the voices, mouth slanted in a grim line. He’d heard those words and tone of voice before, disgusting and suggestive, and they made his blood boil because his little sister had been subjected to those before he corrected the problem and he wasn’t about to let someone’s daughter or sister go through the same thing.

He turned a corner and saw two girls, older than him by a few years, and half a dozen burley guys with leers and weapons closing in on them in a half circle. “OI! THAT IS NOT EXTREME!”

All eight heads snapped in his direction, but almost immediately the girl with long black hair slipped into a martial arts pose, expression dark and maybe a little sadistic, and struck with deadly accuracy. In three swift, powerful moves, two of the men were out cold and the third was clutching his face, blood seeping between his fingers.  

“Ah, you little bitch!” he snarled, clumsily pulling out a six-inch knife and thrusting.

She weaved around the weapon like a serpent, eyes narrowed and cold as she struck him in the face, chest, and groin within seconds. He dropped like a stone.  

Ryohei admired her ferocity and perfect form, and something in the back of his mind recognized her. A movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention and he noticed the two men move in on the second girl with long hair and kind eyes – he didn’t see her lips thin into a grim line or see her shift into a subtle defensive stance – while her friend was busy with her fourth victim and he moved so quickly, an after image was left as he blurred forward.  

He made sure they saw him coming and were prepared – his pride as a boxer would be tainted if he attacked an unaware opponent from behind – and landed a powerful hit on the first man’s face and another strong blow to the second one’s chest, knocking them into the air before landing a few feet away, unconscious.  

The small courtyard was quiet for a moment when the short fight was over.

“Hey, you.”

He turned to the girl with black hair who looked torn between wary and thankful, eyes full of suspicion. She looked like she was ready to yell but he grinned and shouted, “THAT WAS EXTREME! You’re an extremely good fighter!”

Another bout of silence met his exclamation.  

He blinked.  

“You think I’m a good fighter?” she asked, as if surprised as she cautiously looked him up and down and kept a defensive pose in front of her wide-eyed friend.

Ryohei nodded enthusiastically, less tense now that the problem was taken care of. “Your form was extremely perfect and you’re extremely fast and accurate!”

The black haired girl was quiet for a moment, lips pursed, before she relaxed her stance with a smirk. “My name’s Tatsuki and that’s Orihime.” She introduced, pointing at the smiling orange-haired one next to her. The light haired girls expression was kind and open, but there was strength in her gaze that Ryohei recognized. In fact, she strongly reminded him of Kyoko, and he had a sudden urge to give his little sister a hug. “What’s your name, kid?”

Ryohei pumped both fists in the air passionately, “Sasagawa Ryohei, EXTREME captain of the Namimori Middle School Boxing Team!”

Both girls looked at him strangely for a moment before Tatsuki grinned, Orihime giggling beside her. “Well, Sasagawa Ryohei, _extreme_ captain of the Namimori Middle School Boxing Team, you have just earned yourself lunch with us as thanks for helping us out. Let’s go! I’m starving!”  

They started to walk away and he blinked, not really sure what had just happened but then his stomach growled.

He could think later with some food.

* * *

 

“ _Dammit!”_ Lal hissed, gripping the cell phone tightly in her hands. It took more self-control than she cared to admit to not throw the device and shatter it on the wall. A few agents within earshot shifted warily and cautiously moved away, equal parts curious and nervous as they continued their work.   

Colonello watched her carefully, frowning as he finished up his own call. “What’s the matter Lal, kora?”

Her jaw clenched and unclenched with tension, jerking her head towards the corridor in a silent sign to follow. Briskly walking passed other agents with the ex-Rain Arcobaleno hot on her heels to her office, Lal tried to take deep breaths. She rarely used the office, preferring being on the field or in the gym opposed to the stuffy room she kept out of formality rather than practicality, but it was times like these that she was grateful to have it.  

The short walk helped her temper somewhat but it also allowed the concern she felt to show on her face.

She locked the door behind her with Colonello settled on her desk and his calming presence chased away the rest of her sudden rage (at whoever had taken Tsuna, at Tsuna for _being_ taken, at Reborn for not protecting his charge, at Vongola for painting a target on his back, at herself for not being quicker, at _everyone_ because Tsuna didn’t deserve this). “I just got a call from Basil. All of Tsuna’s guardians are out of town or MIA and Tsuna’s missing. Someone got to him before Basil could get there. He’s already contacted Reborn and says Reborn was already working on it but so far there aren’t many clues as to what happened.”

It was years of experience that allowed her to see the shock flit through Colonello’s eyes like quicksilver, as well as the worry and incredulity. “What? When? _How?_ ”  

Only the upper echelon of Vongola, CEDEF and the Varia knew where Tsuna was. As potential and probable heir to Vongola, already shouldering the title of Vongola Decimo, any private information aside from his Guardians and what other famiglias could gleam from their stay in Japan for the false Inheritance Ceremony was classified as extremely sensitive and highly protected. It seemed their information network had been more severely damaged than they thought if it had taken so long for Tsuna’s disappearance to reach them.

Lal sighed, stomach twisting uncomfortably as she sat her chair heavily and stared down at her hands – her adult hands, hands that would still be the size of a small child’s if not for Tsuna.  

“Basil thinks it happened a day and a half ago but there wasn’t much to go on.”

Colonello’s eyebrow raised in surprise. “No signs of fighting?”

Lal shook her head. “No. He says he’s going to meet with someone who might have information, but otherwise the house was wiped clean and no one in the neighborhood has any useful information.”

“So Tsuna was either blackmailed or knocked out before he could fight back, kora.”

Lal felt a headache coming on. Knowing Tsuna, whose compassion and naivety often lead him to as much trouble as victory, it was – “Most likely the former. Or both.”

“You think they used Iemitsu and Nana’s disappearance for leverage?”

“It’s a strong possibility. Their cruise disappeared twelve hours before Nono sent Reborn on that mission to Mexico. Not a day later and Tsuna’s gone and that idiot wouldn’t dream of doing anything to put them in danger.”

Unanswered questions lingered in the uncomfortable silence, but the most prominent one was of Tsuna’s safety. Lal didn’t want to think about the photos she’d seen of the crime scenes where they’d found the bodies of Vongola and CEDEF personnel, mutilated and drained of life.

“They’re not gonna kill him, kora.”

Lal glanced up from her hands, feeling uncomfortably raw with just him the room with her. “I know.”  

 _Precious cargo, valuable hostage, a well of information._  

_The future of Vongola._

Colonello nodded, lips thinned into a grim line. “I looked over the autopsies again, kora, and noticed that every single person that had been taken and suffered from lack of flames had Sun or Cloud flames, though it might just be a coincidence.” Doubtful. “All the others were known for being information brokers or messengers, people that knew something but not everything.”

Lal didn’t like what he was implying. “They absorbed their flames and left them to rot?”

Colonello shrugged, “It’s the best thing I can come up with, kora. Verde’s machine did the same during the Arcobaleno Trails, only he stopped when he had enough flames so Tsuna and his friends didn’t die.”

“And they’ve only been taking flames with Activation and Propagation properties.” Her brows furrowed. “Then why didn’t they take Tsuna’s friends with him? Sasagawa is out of town with his family and Hibari is most likely in Namimori. Why not go after his Sun or Cloud guardian?”

She caught the flash of sharp intelligence in the ex-Rain Arcobaleno’s gaze and her own widened in response.  

“Who says they won’t?”

* * *

 

Mochida watched carefully as the younger teen entered the shrine, taking his seat at the cushion and table with tea already set for him with a casual grace he’d never noticed before. He knew nothing really fazed Yamamoto, but still, he’d expected more than a blink of surprise at his presence.  

Well, whatever. They had more important things to worry about.  

Yamamoto grinned at him as if they were old friends and weren’t in the heart of Hibari Kyouya’s domain. “Haha, I didn’t expect to see you here, Mochida-senpai. What’s the occasion?”

Mochida scowled but couldn’t muster up the energy to be genuinely irritated. It was bad enough that he had to tell the cheery baseball player the bad news; the situation was only made worse by the fact that he’d found out, from Hibari no less, that Tsuna and his gang were technically criminals. He didn’t really know how to say it delicately – and some part of him was still wondering if he was in some really fucked up dream – so he said it like he did everything else. Blunt as hell.  

“I’m here cause Dame-Tsuna’s a dumbass and got himself kidnapped.”

The smile froze on Yamamoto’s face, becoming brittle and the slightest bit threatening, and Mochida had to refrain from grabbing his bokken in self-defense.  

Then the smile disappeared, replaced by an uncomfortably broken open and raw look of guilt and terror that the kendo captain had never seen on anyone’s face before, let alone Yamamoto’s. It only lasted for a second before it disappeared, but there was still a note of anxiety and disbelief in his voice when he asked, “Tsuna’s been kidnapped?”  

Reigning in his unease, Mochida met Yamamoto’s unnerving stare.  

“Yeah, a few days ago. I didn’t find out you didn’t know until a yesterday, though. You and that Gokudera guy are always hanging around Dame-Ts–“ Yamamoto’s demeanor darkened abruptly. “I-I mean, Sawada…I thought you might’ve been kidnapped with him or already searching.”

Yamamoto frowned at the unintentional accusation, a strange expression on his usually happy face. “The baseball team was invited to a tournament in the beginning of break. My dad called me this morning and said some weird things so when no one answered their phones, I called Reborn. He’s the one that told me to come back to Namimori.”  

“Yeah, well– wait, the Nationals? Isn’t that, like, half a day away by bus? How the hell did you get here so fast?”  

“I got a ride,” was all he said and something like suspicion darkened his hard amber eyes when he turned to Hibari. “What about everyone else? Gokudera or Sasagawa-senpai? Or Reborn? I know they’re gone now but they were still here when I left, weren’t they?”

The last name seemed to catch Hibari’s attention and Mochida was surprised to see the violent teen respond. He’d been shockingly non-threatening thus far – aside from the first ten minutes of their meeting where Mochida had had the stuffing beat out of him for some godforsaken reason – but now it was as if a predator was stirring.  

Fuck, why the hell was he here again?

Hibari must’ve felt talkative today because instead of lashing out like Mochida half-expected, he actually replied, “The noisy herbivore and the carnivore left the same day you did. The loud herbivore left the next day.” Mochida mentally snorted at the descriptions but didn’t dare say anything out loud. His bruises didn’t need bruises on top of them.  

Yamamoto didn’t look very happy but some of the hard lines around his mouth disappeared when he turned back to Mochida. “How did you know Tsuna got kidnapped, senpai?”

“A day or so after you left, my mom wanted me to get something Dame– ah, Sawada’s mom borrowed so I went over –“

“And he was gone?”  

The older teen scowled at being interrupted. “No, he was there. Some priests stopped by while I was there. They wanted to purify some ‘evil aura’ surrounding Sawada’s house and us too. It was fucking weird since they kept waving around some nasty smelling incense and wouldn’t leave without tea first. Sawada tried to say no but they said something to him – I don’t know what it was but he got all pale and quiet – and he didn’t stop them from coming in. I got the hell out of there after they left, but that idiot gave me the wrong box so I went back. The door was still open and –“  

Mochida frowned uncomfortably at the memory and he was sure it wouldn’t leave him for years to come.  

“The two priest guys were there, praying and there were footsteps everywhere. I didn’t see Sawada so took a few pictures and hid my phone in the box before some asshole knocked me out from behind.” His fingers twitched, resisting the urge to rub the bump on his head since it was still tender as hell. “Four hours later, I’m waking up in the hospital with a concussion and all the neighbors swearing up and down that they didn’t see any priests.”

They baseball players brows furrowed in worry. “Are you alright now, Mochida-senpai?”

Mochida grunted and instead slid a cream colored folder over to him. “I’m fine, especially since I got all this.”

Interest replaced some of the concern, much to Mochida’s relief; he didn’t like seeing Yamamoto, who was usually obliviously happy about everything, look like that. It was too weird. “What’s this?”

“After I woke up, I went back to Da-Sawada’s house and he was gone. No signs of forced entry, foul play, or suspicious activity. No one believed me when I said he was kidnapped since they knew his parents were on a cruise. They just assumed he’d gone with them, and since no one’s willing to file a missing persons report and have the police conduct a proper investigation, I did some research on my own and found all this. Idiots didn’t check the box I hid my phone in.”  

Yamamoto eyed the pictures carefully with sharp scrutiny before looking up, impressed and curious.

Mochida smirked. “My dad’s head of the police force in Namimori and he keeps all the important information off the computers and in his office on paper to prevent hackers from getting to it so,” he shrugged casually, “I snuck into the station and searched everything I could. I even managed to get into the stuff he keeps in his office at home.”  

He wasn’t going to mention the ass whooping he got when his dad caught him sneaking out of his private office, but the files he’d copied hadn’t been discovered and that was all that mattered at the moment. He grabbed one of the papers hidden beneath some pictures Yamamoto hadn’t seen yet and pointed to them.  

“These are the two that I saw at Sawada’s place.”  

It was of the two priests, slightly blurry from the rush job and low quality camera, but their clothes were fairly distinct despite their bland, forgettable faces.  He snagged another paper and placed it on top, full of text from a historical source with various scribbles everywhere.

“There wasn’t much, but I got a few hits and matched their clothes and sutras they used to some obscure religious cults from hundreds of years ago. Real freaky shit. From what I’ve found, it’s not like any religion I’ve heard about and there’s no real name for it. It’s got ideals from religions all over the world, and unlike Christianity, you don’t get to choose to practice it casually. It’s pretty much do or die. A lot of it has to do with getting closer to some kind of all encompassing god-figure and it mainly focuses on the afterlife.

“See here?” He pointed at some symbols, most of them unidentified. “The whole thing is full of rituals and incantations handed down generation-to-generation and master to disciple. Really, it has less to do with deciphering Holy Scriptures and more focused on teaching instructions. For what? I have no fucking idea.” He jerked his chin towards Hibari who’d been silently tolerant for the last few minutes as Yamamoto was brought up to speed. “I figured Hibari would be able to find more, future dictator of Japan and all that.”

After a long moment, the room lightened from the previously heavy atmosphere and the grin came back to Yamamoto’s face as he laughed good-naturedly, “Haha, wow Mochida-senpai! You’re a really good investigator. You’d fit right into the mafia game! Wanna join Tsuna’s team?”

Mochida’s eyebrow twitched. “Are you retarded?”

“You sound just like Gokudera!”

“The fuck I do! Stop laughing!”

As if silently cued, Kusakabe entered the room and kneeled to Hibari’s right.  

If Mochida hadn’t respected the pompadoured teen as much as he did, he would’ve sneered at him for being Hibari’s lapdog. After all, Kusakabe couldn’t be weak or impatient when dealing so closely with the head of the Disciplinary Committee for who knew how long. Mochida was actually amazed the older teen was still breathing and had all his marbles. “Based on the information Mochida-san provided as well as the results of our own investigation, we’ve found several places where there may be clues to Sawada-san’s location, sacred shrines, holy land and the like. We even took samples of the incense left on Mochida-sans clothes– “

He ignored the squawk of indignant protest from said teen, who probably didn’t even realize his clothes had been nabbed for more evidence.

“–and we’ve isolated a compound that has suggestive properties when inhaled, which somewhat explains why Sawada-san wasn’t able to turn them away and was left susceptible to being captured. However, there have been instances in the last few weeks that are impeding our progress.”

Kusakabe was a respectful person and was always polite, but the solemn note to his voice told Mochida more than words. Because of the Disciplinary Committee’s vast and growing influence in Namimori and beyond, there was very little that they couldn’t do and it seemed whomever kidnapped Tsuna had the influence to slow down even Hibari Kyoya and the intelligence network he had, no doubt, created with his own hands.  

It was a chilling (fucking scary) thought.  

“We also received information that an ally of Sawada-san arrived in Japan late yesterday afternoon, a student to Sawada-san’s father.” With nothing left to say, Kusakabe bowed respectfully before leaving, probably off to do another task set by Hibari.

Yamamoto’s eyes brightened. “Oh? Someone from CEDEF? It might be Basil.”

 _Basil? Isn’t that a cooking spice?_ _And why the hell does CEDEF sound familiar?_ Mochida didn’t know much about Tsuna’s involvement in the mafia and, quite frankly, he wanted to keep it that way, but it was irritating not knowing what was going on.

It was silent for a while as Yamamoto scanned a few more files before he looked up, blank faced. “Why?”

Mochida’s brows furrowed, completely thrown by the abrupt change. “Why what?”

“You know searching this stuff will probably get you in trouble with your dad or whoever took Tsuna. Why would you put yourself in danger to help us? I thought you didn’t like Tsuna, especially after last year.”  

The baseball player didn’t look very comfortable forming those words and Hibari was watching them both with a calculating shrewdness that scared the kendo captain more than his bloodthirsty catchphrase. It took a second for Mochida to realize it was because Yamamoto was never one to question things or think badly of anyone or their motivations. He went with the flow and never pushed unless it was for something important, and it seemed they were both interested in his answer for some weird reason.  

Dame-Tsuna must’ve been pretty damn important to Yamamoto for him to be acting so out of character.  

Mochida fidgeted awkwardly under their combined stares and, fuck, it was like he was being tested or something. He growled and snapped. “I don’t. Like Sawada, that is. But,” his lips thinned, fists clenching on his lap, “look, no one deserves to get kidnapped, alright? And I should’ve done more than take pictures when I saw what happened. It’s partly my fault that Sawada’s gone and I just wanna find the idiot and get on with my life, ok?”

Yamamoto held his stare for another second before nodding and slowly letting out one long breath. “How much do you know about the mafia, Mochida-senpai?”  

Mochida grimaced as he ticked off on his fingers, “Let’s see: mafia’s dangerous, Sawada’s somehow involved, and you and your merry band of idiots are going along with him. Oh, and that kid in the suit is part of it too. Rebo-something. A little young, dontcha’ think?”

“Haha, yeah. That’s Reborn, the strongest hitman in the world. He’s training Tsuna to be the next boss of Vongola and we’re his guar-“

“Wait, wait, wait, hold up – _what?_ ”  

The older teen shook his head in denial before the full force of the words hit him.  

“ _The_ Reborn? And Dame-Tsuna’s gonna be the next boss of the _Vongola family? The most powerful mafia family in the world?_ ” _Oh my god I bullied a mafia boss_. Mochida threw back the rest of his tea and wished it were sake. “Ok, I knew you guys were idiots, but what the actual fuck?” he demanded.

Yamamoto blinked, surprised. “You know about Vongola?”

Mochida had to try very hard not to hit him and instead threw his hands up in the air. “Of course I know about Vongola, dumbass! Everyone even _remotely_ related to a police officer knows about the Vongola!” He scrubbed his face roughly with his hand, running his fingers through his hair agitatedly. “Jesus fuck, what the hell did you guys get into now?”

The baseball player grinned again with a laugh. “Well, a few weeks ago, we were fighting the Vindice to free the Arcobaleno from their curse, and before that we went ten years into the future to save the world from someone that can see parallel worlds, and before that we –“

Was he even allowed to hear this?

 _Vindice? Arcobaleno? Time travel?_ Mochida covered his eyes with his hand and groaned, “Stop, just stop, I can’t handle this, you crazy fuckers are on your on your own.” His voice lowered but his words were still audible, “What the fuck have I gotten myself into? God, if this is punishment for the last few years then I’m sorry, I swear, I’ll try to stop being an asshole, I mean, I can’t guarantee anything cause, you know, but–”

Hibari’s voice cut through his half-hearted prayer.

“Herbivores.”

Both he and Yamamoto looked to the prefect as he fluidly stood, expression blank but still fierce. His jacket, hanging off his shoulders, shifted on his frame and Mochida had a sinking feeling that it wasn’t an accident when he saw a flash of silver concealed beneath the black garment.

“There will be a plane to Italy leaving tonight. Don’t be late.”

The silent promise of being bitten to death for tardiness was heard loud and clear – _holy shit were they talking about him too?_ – and just like that, Hibari was gone, leaving a despairing Mochida and cheery Yamamoto in his wake.

“I don’t know you people.”

Yamamoto laughed as if he’d made a joke, downing the tea in one go, and beamed at Mochida. “You heard him, Mochida-senpai. Let’s get packed and ready to go! We gotta meet with Basil and he’ll probably wanna investigate Tsuna’s house before we leave. Hibari won’t be happy if we’re late.”

_When is he ever happy?_

Instead of voicing the question, Mochida scowled and threw a teacup at Yamamoto’s head.  

* * *

 

This time, when Tsuna woke up, it wasn’t slow and drowsy with drug-induced effects.  

It was with a start, heart pounding furiously in time with the shrill beep beside him, arms and legs bound to a dentist-like chair, and a sense of nausea so overwhelming he was sure he was going to puke up his organs. The light shining in his face was bright, too bright, too much, but he couldn’t close his eyes, couldn’t _not_ stare at everything because there were so many machines surrounding him, beeping and humming and whirring, and for a moment he thought he was in Spanner’s workshop, listening to the man tinker with Gola Mosca and poking and prodding him with questions and tools about his Flames.  

However, unlike the curious bemusement and confusion and safety he felt there, here all he felt was panic and terror so powerful he expected his heart would give out from pumping so furiously in his chest.  

It wasn’t until he sensed more than saw the shadows passing over the walls that he realized there were people here, moving with controlled, frenetic energy, white lab coats blending in with the white walls and white light. They were talking too, but he could barely hear them over the roar of his blood rushing through his head or the blackness creeping into his vision.  

“–blood pressure climbing! Get it down!”

“Sedate him–…pass out again–!”

_Again?_

“Vitals are unstable –“

“Flames are unresponsive to experimental treatment, take out the IV–“

_Wait, my flames? Why are they–_

“Hold him down! Give him another pill–“

 _Pills?_  

“No, not ye–“

“Doctor, he’s losing consciousness, should we use the adrenaline?”

“–re you crazy? At this stage, that’ll only kill him–“

“How is…–ther patient?”

“–anaged to break out of his restraints–…rrently under heavy sedati–“

_Ichigo…san?_

“–leeping agent administered.”

That was all Tsuna could hear before ice filled his veins and darkness floating around the edges of his vision consumed him, comforting and terrifying all in one breath. _What’s going o–_

In moments, he knew no more.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my KHR muse came back to life, yay! I've done some editing to earlier chapters (nothing plot-changing...yet) and this is an edited chapter that has been up on my ff.net account but I do have another chapter being cleaned up before posting. Not really sure where I was going with this fic but I'll do my best to keep pushing forward :) also, excuse any out of character behavior, it's been a while since I've binge-watched either series. Thanks and hope you enjoy!


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